Chapter 14
TALLY
The door falls closed behind Flip.
I lean against the wall and debate whether this whole night has been a fever dream. How can this be real life?
I pinch my arm. “Ow.” Nope. Not a fever dream.
Flip kissed me. Flip kissed me. Flip kissed me.
What happens now? Will he call or text? When will I see him again? What happens when I see him again? These are all questions I should have asked, but I was too discombobulated by the kiss. I lick my lips. I can still taste Flip. Feel him. Smell his cologne.
A knock on the door startles me. Maybe he came back. Maybe he wants another kiss. Or more than another kiss.
I throw the door open without checking the peephole first. “Mom? What are you doing here?”
She looks…sad and determined. I’m the spitting image of my mother. We have the same narrow frame, same hair, same eyes. “I wanted to see you.” She holds out a cardboard box. “And bring you a care package.”
I step aside to let her in, flummoxed and still reeling from the kiss and now my mother’s surprise arrival. Parsnip rushes by and slips out the door.
“Fuck! We can’t let him make it to the elevator.”
“I’m so sorry. I forgot how wily he is.” Mom uses the box to prop open the door and I grab his kitty treats.
He’s already at the other end of the hall.
I shake the treats and call his name, sprinting after him.
“You guard the elevators, I’ll try to corral him!
” When I lived at home, Parsnip believed all doors led to happiness.
Usually he didn’t make it very far, the gardens too alluring for a house kitty, but here it’s just door after door, new smells, and lots of potential new friends who want to give him pets.
“Parsnip! Come back, buddy! I have treats for you!” I shake the container.
The elevator dings. Parsnip’s ears perk up.
I glance over my shoulder and hope like hell it isn’t Flip coming back and that my mom can prevent my escape artist of a cat from going for a ride. It’s happened before. It was a harrowing, endless hour of searching.
I drop the container of treats, which spill out onto the carpet. I narrowly miss grabbing Parsnip around the middle as he darts past me, heading toward my mom. Cammie’s apartment door opens and Parsnip corrects course, launching himself through the opening.
“Got ’em!” Fee exclaims.
“Oh, thank God,” I heave a sigh of relief and quickly sweep the treats back into the container.
My mom hugs Cammie, who looks over her shoulder with questions in her eyes, which I will have to answer later. After my visit with my mom. I’m sure my friends are dying to find out what’s going on.
Mom takes Parsnip, who snuggles into her and starts purring up a storm.
Such a traitor.
“I’ll text in a bit,” I mutter to Fee and Cammie.
They give me the thumbs-up.
Mom and I return to my apartment with Parsnip. “Can I get you something to drink? Tea? Soda? Water? A cooler?”
“Tea would be nice.”
I set water to boil and pull out two mugs.
“Did Dad text you or something?”
“He did, and I’m sorry he didn’t prioritize you over work, but that’s not the main reason I’m here.” She leans against the counter. “We need to talk.”
I sigh. I should have expected this. “I’m mad at you.”
She nods and her eyes turn glassy. “I know.”
“Why didn’t you say anything sooner? Why didn’t you tell me first?” That hurts the most.
The kettle boils and Mom steps in to pour water into our mugs. “Because I didn’t want to put that on you.”
I voice the question that’s been plaguing me. “Is it my fault you’re splitting up? Is it because I moved out for university?”
She sets the kettle down and turns to me. “No, honey. You and your brother and sister aren’t the problem. My relationship with your dad is the problem, and I didn’t want to make it yours, because for the majority of your life, I did.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“We have always been close, Tallulah, and you have always been the kind of person who steps in to help and take care of people. You’re a lot like me, but I should never have relied on you the way I did.
It wasn’t fair to you, or your brother or sister, or even your dad.
My inability to tell him what I needed and why is the reason our marriage failed.
He is a great guy and an amazing friend, but he’s not a good partner for me. ”
“He should have fought for us, he should have put us first.”
“I made it easy for him to shirk his parental and fatherly duties by letting you be my coparent. You moving out has been good for our relationship because it allowed you a reprieve from the responsibility that was forced on you. We needed a little space from each other, and Ties and Fenna needed to see you as a sister and not another mom.”
“I’m really fucking mad at Dad.” My chin wobbles, and tears spill over.
“I know, give yourself time to feel all the feelings. He really fucked it up today. He should have said no to whatever work call came in.”
“He was ready to blow me off for Flip Madden before he even took the call. Maybe that meeting would have taken five minutes, but still.”
Mom’s nostrils flare. “Don’t do what I did with your dad. Confront him and make him own his choices. He is not to blame for all of this. If I’d been honest about my feelings, he would have tried to change, but I never gave him the chance.”
“And it’s too late, now?” I ask, still stupidly hopeful.
“Twenty-five years of being less important than his job is too much to get past.” She smiles sadly. “I don’t want you to resent your dad, Tally. I was going to do that anyways because I’m the one who lived it the entire time.”
“I really hate this,” I admit.
“Me, too, baby. But your dad and I are better as friends. Right now there are a lot of hard feelings to sort through, but we’ll get there. I promise.” She opens her arms and I fall into them.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
“Me, too, but I want to work on building a better mother-daughter relationship with you. One where you’re not picking up the slack for your dad with your brother and sister.”
“I’d like that.”
We hug for long minutes until we’re both sniffling. I grab us tissues and unpack the care package.
I survey the counter. There are cookies, cinnamon buns, fresh bread, and a whole cake. “Have you been on a baking kick?”
“What would give you that idea?”
We both giggle.
“It’s good half my friends play for the hockey team and have bottomless pits.”
“Ties said something similar about his robotics friends.”
“How’s he doing?”
“Okay. Staying busy with robotics and Fenna is focused on cello.”
“And you?”
“I’m better now that we’ve talked. I didn’t want to assume you were okay, especially when I knew you probably weren’t.”
My phone buzzes in my back pocket with a call. My stomach twists as dad’s name flashes across the screen. What if someone snapped a photo of me and Flip together and he already knows he took me out for dinner?
“You should answer that. It’s late and I need to get home anyway.”
“You’re sure?”
“Positive. Tell him how you feel, he can and should handle it. I’ll make sure Parsnip doesn’t escape on my way out.” She kisses me on the cheek.
I take a steadying breath and answer the call. “Hey, Dad.”
“I’m so sorry I had to cancel dinner, honey. You made it home okay, though?”
“It’s been hours, Dad. Have you been working this whole time and just realized you ditched me?”
“I got pulled into a call, and then some emails—”
I cut him off. “I don’t want excuses. If you’re calling to find out if I made it home okay, I did. Flip is a responsible driver.” And an excellent kisser.
Dad makes a noncommittal sound. “Can I take you out later this week? I’ll come to you. It doesn’t have to be dinner. It can be any meal. I just… I know I’ve let you down a lot lately.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Tallulah.”
“I came all the way to you, and you bailed on me, Dad. If you want a relationship with me, you can’t do it only on your terms.”
“I know.” He’s quiet a moment. “I’m so sorry. I’m learning that I’m really bad at taking care of the people I love.” He chokes up at the last part.
I sigh, hating how broken he sounds. Nothing gets fixed if I don’t at least try with him. “Why don’t you share your calendar with me, and I can give you times and dates that work with my schedule?”
“I can do that. I’ll do that right now.”
“Did the meeting go okay?”
“Uh, yeah. Sometimes the bureaucratic stuff is a pain in my ass. But you don’t need to worry about that.” My phone pings, and I check the screen. A notification that Dad’s shared his calendar pops up.
“I got the calendar. I’ll cross-check it with all my events, and we can figure something out.”
Sometimes I forget that he’s the one who’s alone in all of this. He chose the Terror over his family, but at the end of the day, he returns to an empty apartment. How hard must that be?
“Okay, great,” he says.
“But you can’t bail on me again.”
“I won’t. I promise.”
“I’m holding you to that.”
“Good, I want you to. I love you, Tally, I hope you know that, even if I’m not great at showing it.”
“I love you, too, Dad. And it’s never too late to stop making the same mistake.”
“Isn’t that the truth.”
Maybe we can find our way through this. Maybe I can have the things I want, and the whole world won’t implode because of it.