Chapter Five
London
My mind is still spinning as Dad and I walk home late that evening, having spent an exhausting day at the diner.
I still can’t quite fathom what happened.
It’s been on my mind throughout my shift, and I can’t shake it even now.
I can’t get the image of those men out of my head.
I expect them to jump out and attack us again at any moment.
And I can’t believe my childhood home was refinanced.
I can’t believe we’re so close to losing it all.
A small voice in the back of my head keeps pointing out my dad’s role in all of this, and as much as I hate to admit it, I wonder if it could’ve been avoided.
Why hadn’t he tried harder to keep from going down that path?
What on earth possessed him to think that borrowing money from those people was a good idea?
He must’ve been desperate. You know how much the diner means to him.
Except I keep replaying the scene in my head, the moment the man’s hand collided with my father’s cheek. I keep seeing my dad topple to the floor, and the more I think about it, the sicker I feel.
I don’t want to imagine what will happen if he can’t repay them.
I know it won’t end well for him or the diner.
Please let me help him find a way out of this. This can’t be how it ends for the house and the diner.
I won’t let it.
At least after seeing and hearing everything, I hope that Noah will understand why I can’t move with him right now. My dad needs me now more than ever. I can’t leave him with this mess. I have to figure out a way to help him. I have to figure out how to fix this, even though it feels hopeless.
A chill joins us as we walk down the winding streets of Boston. Warm lights from other shops and restaurants brag about the business they bring in, much more substantial than anything we’ve drummed up in years. In a city where so many people are successful, why do we have to struggle so much?
Then, we pass an old bakery I used to love, owned by a couple who had spent thirty years in the business.
Now the lights are off, and the closed sign is up for good.
They went out of business about a year ago, suffering under the same problems we’re dealing with.
Even with all their experience, they couldn’t save themselves.
It’s a haunting reminder of what could happen to us. This is the kind of tragedy we face. My father could lose his dream and everything he’s worked for. I can’t let that happen.
“There’s got to be a way to fix this,” I say as we near our small, two-story Victorian. “I can’t just sit back and watch as you lose everything.”
“I told you, sweetheart, this is not your problem to manage,” he assures me with a shake of his head. “I appreciate how much you want to help, but you’ve already done more than enough. This is on me. I don’t want you to worry a bit about it.”
I want to point out that it’s not just him that would be losing everything. I’d be losing my home, too. I’d be losing the business I left college behind to help run. I’m just as invested in this as he is, and I don’t know what I’ll do if we lose it.
After everything we’ve sacrificed, I’m not ready to throw in the towel just because a bunch of thugs decided it’s time.
I suspect saying that out loud would only make him feel worse about everything. So, I keep quiet as we walk up the stoop and let ourselves into the house.
Our home has seen better days , but it’s still cozy, decorated in shades of blue, gray, and white.
It reminds me of a day at the Cape, and I realize how long it’s been since I’ve stood by the ocean.
I miss the freedom of the salt against my skin.
I miss wishing every worry away into the wind.
I miss the thrill of standing on the edge of jagged rocks, knowing that one wrong step could send me tumbling.
I turn my mind back to the unpleasant reality I’m living in. We already ate at the diner, as we often do for dinner, but we also have emergency ice cream in the house along with sundae supplies. I think now is a good time to dig into them.
“I’ll make you a sundae,” I tell my father. “And we can watch a movie; anything you like. I think after today, a relaxing evening is just what you need. Then, tomorrow morning, we’ll brainstorm ideas and…”
“I appreciate it,” he cuts in, “but there’s not much you can do, London. I wish there was, but there just isn’t. I’ve followed every lead and searched down every avenue. I’ve put everything into fixing this, and there just aren’t any good options.”
His words give me chills.
Why is it so easy for him to give up?
Why doesn’t he want to fight?
It’s not like him to be so jaded, and I realize with a sickening jolt that things must be far worse than I thought.
He lets out a deep sigh and averts his gaze. “For now, I’m just going to get some sleep. As much as I’d love to spend more time with you, I’m exhausted, I’m drained, and I just need to rest. You should call it an early night, too. Don’t stay up too late.”
“Of course,” I reply, covering my concern. It’s very unlike him to turn down sundaes. This is really affecting him, and try as I might, I’m not sure what to do to ease the tension.
So, after watching him walk up the white-carpeted stairs flanked by photos of happier times, I turn to the kitchen. The freezer light falls on me, accusing me of eating my pain away as I take out the ice cream, hot fudge, and candy pieces.
I make sure to maintain a fit figure, but a little treat every now and then won’t spoil that. Besides, I really need it.
Once my sundae is complete, I make a cup of my favorite herbal tea to help me relax. Just as I’m ready to dig into a peaceful evening, there’s a knock at the door, and I freeze.
Is it the men from earlier? Will they hurt my father again, or are they here to hurt me this time? What can I do to protect us? Do I even stand a chance?
I grab my pepper spray and a baseball bat on the way to the door, then peer out of the peephole. My muscles loosen, and the knots in my stomach unfurl as I see the only person I’d want to see right now.
“Noah,” I sigh as I open the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going home.”
“I know you wanted some time alone with your dad, but I couldn’t just leave you after everything that happened.” Noah’s eyes move over me intently. “Can I come inside?”
I usher him in so I can lock the door, then turn to give him a hug that expresses the feelings I can’t quite put into words. He hugs me back just as tightly, a reassurance I desperately need tonight.
I want his embrace to keep the demons at bay.
“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers. Then, he kisses the top of my head. “What happened today is even more reason for you to move in with me. You need to get away from this mess. It’s dangerous.”
Oh, no.
I need his support and advice to navigate the unfamiliar terrain, but it suddenly pisses me off that he wants me to leave. Especially after what we both witnessed today.
“I’m not going to get into that right now,” I warn, my voice rising in anger.
“Honestly, Noah, I can’t believe that you expect me to leave my father alone.
Don’t you care about him?” I step away from him, my fear, confusion, and anger melting together into frustration toward the safest person I can take this out on.
“If you’re going to be like that, you might as well leave. ”
I can’t bear the thought of turning my back on my father.
Not like this.
No matter how angry and disappointed I am, I can’t leave him to the wolves howling at his door.
How can Noah not see how much he needs me?
Noah puts up his hands in surrender, caught off-guard by my hostility.
“I’m sorry, Lo. I didn’t mean to press the issue at a bad time.
I just want to keep you safe. Those men today scared me.
I was terrified to think something bad would happen to you.
I’ll do anything I can to protect you, but I’m not ignorant.
I doubt I would’ve been a match for them. ”
“They scared me, too,” I admit, shivering at the memory. “I want to be safe. I never want to see or think of those men again, but I do have to take my father into consideration. He’s at risk, too. I can’t leave him alone. Not now.”
“I understand,” Noah assures me. “You want to keep him safe just as I want to keep you safe. I think your father would agree with making you a priority over him.”
I give him a warning look. “This isn’t up for discussion. I won’t leave my father.”
“We don’t have to talk about that right now,” he says. “Let’s just relax for the night. Did you already make your nighttime tea?”
“I did. I made a sundae, too. If you behave, I’ll make one for you.”
“I always behave.”
“Suuure…” I kiss him, smoothing over the tension before walking back into the kitchen. While Noah and I might not be on the same page regarding how to handle things, I know he has my best interest at heart.
Like him, it’s hard to watch it all unfold, knowing there’s very little we can do.
I can’t blame him for looking for alternative solutions, but I wish he would keep my father in mind.
He needs us now more than ever.
With a sigh, I make another sundae and a cup of herbal tea for Noah, then we take the bowls and cups into my room.
My room is an embodiment of how much I fear change.
The lilac walls have watched over me my whole life, and pictures of my family when it was still whole hang in silver frames.
My ornate, white bedpost has stayed the same, while the white and purple covers have at least changed.
The candles and incense are a new addition, too.
I light them for ambiance as Noah and I settle onto my bed.
Being in my childhood room is warm, comforting, and familiar, like stepping back into simpler times when it felt like the world was mine for the taking.
I miss my old life and the future I envisioned for myself.