Chapter 4
TALLY
At dinner with my family, I can’t decide if things feel off because of the Flip situation, or if it’s something else.
It sometimes feels like Dad is on the outside of things because he’s gone so much, but today it’s more pronounced.
I’m distracted, replaying my post-show interaction with Flip, including the hug.
What does it mean? I drag myself out of my head and back to my family.
My parents steal a glance at each other over their plates.
Mom has been quiet, which is unusual. She typically drives dinner conversation.
Fenna is talking animatedly about her upcoming cello performance while Ties stares at his lap because he’s texting under the table.
Normally he wouldn’t be allowed to get away with that. Seems like everyone is preoccupied.
Dad and Mom exchange another look. My stomach twists at their tight expressions, and the wordless conversation they have every time they make eye contact.
“Kids, we have something important we need to discuss,” Dad finally says.
“Are we going away for Christmas this year?” my sister asks.
Fenna asks this every year, though it’s only happened once.
“I have to work, honey,” Dad reminds her.
“You always have to work,” Ties mutters.
A few times we’ve flown out to a game in a sunny destination, but after that it’s always been me, Mom, Fenna, and Ties on a short holiday while my dad goes on to the next hockey game.
It would be easier now that we’re older, but these days I want to spend New Year’s with my friends, and so does Ties.
My dad tugs on his tie. He does this all the time during games if he’s unhappy with the way a play is going.
Mom fiddles with her napkin, and Dad clears his throat.
Alarm bells sound in my head. “What’s going on?”
“We love you all very much,” Mom chokes out.
I’m immediately on alert at the unspoken but.
Mom looks to Dad, who swallows.
She turns back to us, jaw ticking. “We want you to know how important you are, and that this has nothing to do with you.”
My stomach sinks.
“What has nothing to do with us?” Fenna’s confusion makes my heart hurt.
She’s wildly talented and smart, but she doesn’t always read social cues well, or people’s emotions, and right now the tension at the table is so thick I’m choking on it.
Then Dad swings the axe. “Your mom and I are getting a divorce.”
My heart cleaves in two.
Ties’s phone clatters to the floor.
The furrow on Fenna’s forehead makes me want to reach out and hug her, but she’s not big on spontaneous affection.
Dad looks stoic, and Mom just looks…resigned and sad.
I’m so many things, but shock and anger top the list. “What the fuck?” I look to Mom, betrayal quickly usurping my feelings. She’s clearly been keeping this from me. To have this news dropped on me with no warning makes me question everything.
“Honey, language. We’re in a public place,” Dad chastises.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” My gaze swings to him.
He must have told her not to say anything.
“We’re in the middle of a restaurant. Why would you do this here, where everyone gets a front-row seat to our family falling apart?
Why not at home, where everyone can have their feelings and not worry about the server witnessing them?
” I fling a hand toward the poor twenty-something guy holding a jug of water. He does an about-face and rushes off.
I want an explanation. I want my universe not to feel like it’s imploding. I’m beyond devastated. I’m hurt, I’m reeling, everything I believe has just shattered.
The resolution on their faces tells me this has been coming for a while.
Maybe I missed it because I’ve been at university, living my life for the past three and a half years.
But my mom and I message each other daily, even if it’s just one freaking line.
We talk on the phone all the time, and not once did she mention being unhappy. Did my dad spring this on her?
“Your father thought it would be better to have this conversation somewhere that wasn’t connected to home for all of us,” Mom explains gently.
So we wouldn’t always walk into the living room and remember how Mom and Dad sat us down and pulled the loose thread of our family, unraveling it. Or sit at the dining room table and recall our devastation over being told everything we ever believed about our parents was a lie.
This isn’t our favorite restaurant. It’s somewhere new, different, and I’ll never return again because it’s the place my world upended.
“But why? Don’t you love each other?” Fenna asks.
“We do, honey,” Mom assures her. “But I’m not in love anymore.”
“So you want this?” I ask, seeking confirmation.
“Can’t you fall back in love?” Fenna asks. “I fall in and out of love with songs all the time.”
“It’s not the same, Fen,” Ties grits out.
“Your dad and I are better as friends.” Mom chokes up and sips her water. “Things won’t change that much. We’ll stay in the house, and your dad will get an apartment.”
“But why did you fall out of love?” Fenna presses. “You don’t even fight.”
“It’s hard to fight with someone who isn’t home,” Mom replies flatly.
Now I understand why Dad didn’t take off right after my performance.
He’s always working, and even when he’s home or has time off, he’s still half at the arena, with the team.
Even now, his phone buzzes, and for a moment, he pats his pocket before dropping his hand, like he thought about answering it.
We might get a few weeks of vacation with him in the off-season, but he still takes calls and schedules meetings. The rest of the year, he isn’t around much.
“My schedule made it difficult,” Dad explains.
“I’ve felt like a single parent most of the time.” Mom’s voice cracks, and her sad eyes shift to me.
She and I were always in it together, taking care of everything. We were a team while my dad was away. Did I set the wheels in motion when I went to university and left Mom on her own? I’ve been home less this semester with the demands of my courses and dance.
My heart shatters, and I direct my anger at my dad. “You could have tried harder. If you’d been around more, maybe Mom would still be in love with you.”
He doesn’t disagree. Doesn’t tell me to watch myself. Doesn’t do any of the things he would if it was the locker room and one of the guys gave him lip. He nods. “I should have made more of an effort to find balance between my career and my home life.”
“But you didn’t, because you love the Terror more than you love us,” I finish for him.
“That’s not true, Tally,” he argues.
“Isn’t it, though? Why not make a change if you knew it was a problem? You had to know how Mom felt before it got to this point.”
Mom isn’t a pushover. She couldn’t be with three kids and virtually no help raising us.
“It’s not that simple—”
I cut him off. “But it is. You put the Terror ahead of us, and now you’re tearing our family apart.
” The pain of it makes it hard to breathe.
What will the holidays look like? What does this mean for the future?
For Fenna, who just started high school, and Ties, who starts university next year?
How will I make it through finals when the foundation of my life is suddenly crumbling?
I hate that I’m focused on myself, but couldn’t we have gotten through Christmas before they dropped this bomb?
“We still care about each other, Tally, but I need to live my life separately from your father,” Mom reasons.
“I don’t want Dad to move out!” Fenna pushes her chair back and rushes off to the bathroom.
Mom follows, leaving me with Ties and my dad. My brother looks unsurprised, and Dad looks defeated.
“You pushed Mom to do this. Why couldn’t you have put us first? Why did you have to be married to your job instead of your wife and your family?” I mean for it to come out as anger, but instead I sound like I’m pleading, on the edge of tears.
“I know you’re upset—”
“You have no idea how I feel,” I bark. “You just shredded this family and broke all our hearts in a public restaurant.”
Here he thought we couldn’t run away from the conversation.
Or make a scene. I’m not in the same position as my siblings, though.
I don’t have to stay and listen to excuses and try to hold myself together.
I spent my entire childhood and teen years playing second parent to Ties and Fenna.
I helped get them ready for school, made lunches, did all the things Dad might have done if he’d been around.
And he praised me for it. Told me how much it meant to him and my mom that I was always willing to step up.
They both did. It made me and Mom extremely close.
Maybe too close. If he’d just stepped into the shoes he was supposed to wear, maybe we wouldn’t be falling apart.
“Fuck you.” I push away from the table and sling my purse over my shoulder.
I’m frustrated that I feel guilty for not staying to help my mom take care of Fenna and Ties. But I’ve done that my entire life, made up for my dad’s absence without even realizing it.
“Tally, honey…”
I hug my brother, who continues to sit there woodenly. “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “You can come with me, if you want.”
A tear leaks out the corner of Ties’s eye as he shakes his head. I brush it away—like I’m his parent and not his sister. Which is the problem. I want to rail at my father, but if I do, it’ll invariably end up in the papers. Ties and Fenna don’t need that any more than I do.
So I leave the restaurant, digging around in my purse with shaking hands. I need support. I need my friends. I finally find my phone and struggle to pull up my contacts through the tears blurring my vision.
Hammer answers on the second ring as I step outside. “Hey, Tally.”
“Can you pick me up? My parents just told us they’re getting divorced in the middle of a restaurant, and the last place I want to go is home.”
She’s silent for a beat. “I’m so sorry, Tally. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”