LANA
Dad releases me to arm’s length, then shakes his head and pulls me back into a firm embrace.
“Your dad is such a fucking dickhead sometimes,” he says with a groan.
“I know,” I sob and hug him harder. “It’s not all his fault, though,” I add with a sniff. “His daughter’s been rubbing salt in his raw patches to make them sting. But she’s sorry.”
Laughing a little, I wipe my face. “I picked a good one, right?”
Dad groans. “Yeah, he’s the best fucking asshole I know. Happy?”
I’m sure my smile probably says it all, but I give him the verbal confirmation along with it. “Yes.”
“Good. You want another coffee while we talk this out?” he offers, already heading for the machine. “Milk, no sugar, right? Like me?”
Still smiling and not quite sure that I haven’t passed out, hit my head, and am now hallucinating, I nod again. “Yes, please.”
I take a seat, and when he returns to sit next to me, I blurt out another apology.
“I’m sorry I argue all the time. I’ve been angry at you — some of it reasonable, some of it not so much — but you’ve borne the brunt of it, and it probably wasn’t obvious to you that for one week of every year I felt like an outsider who’d finally been allowed to come in from the cold.”
Dad stares at me, his eyebrows pinching in concentration.
He rubs his head, then shakes it and raises his cup.
“This is my first coffee, and for some reason I got no sleep last night while someone poured bourbon down my throat. I’m not running at full capacity, so that riddle went over my head.
You’re going to have to spell it out for me. ”
“I can do that.” I take a restorative breath and gesture that he should drink his coffee. “Okay.” I nod to myself and take another breath. “I should just say it. Just rip the Band-Aid off and try not to throw salt.”
“Aw, fuck.” He wrinkles his nose. “This is going to sting, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” I say, scrunching my nose too. “The thing is, you probably think I had everything I needed growing up, but I didn’t.”
“Huh?”
“I didn’t belong with those people, Dad.”
His eyebrows plunge back into confusion and concern. “What are you talking about? Your mother loves you.”
I sigh as I nod. “Yeah, she likes me okay. But I’m not like her. I’m not like any of them. I don’t fit in with the Bakers the way I do with the Hawkins crew. I know I’m different, but at least with you guys I’ve felt welcome. Mostly.”
Dad scowls, and his knuckles blanch white on the handle of his coffee mug.
“What are you talking about, Lana? You grew up with… the perfect family, perfect house, school, grades, perfect everything. Your mother wouldn’t have settled for anything less — I know her. Intimately.”
“Gross.”
He grunts at me. “What I mean is, I wasn’t up to scratch, and we all fucking knew it.
I thought you didn’t want me in your life.
You certainly made it clear you were the snarling, independent type who didn’t need me.
You wouldn’t even let me pay for your college tuition.
You told me you got all those jobs and scholarships so you didn’t have to feel indebted to me for your education.
Then there’s Clarence fucking Baker. Father of the century and the best fucking thing since three-ply toilet paper, who I had to hear about every fucking Christmas. ”
I close my eyes and groan. “I may have played him up to get a rise out of you,” I admit. “But he is a great dad,” I add, considering all he does for the Baker clan. “Amazing, really. To his daughters.”
Dad sets down his coffee. He looks on the verge of the axe-wielding behavior he threatened Bates with last night. “What did you say?”
I shrug. “Being Clarry’s stepdaughter sucked swamp-donkey dick.
I told you my daddy issues weren’t all your fault, and the original point I was trying to make was that although I was angry and didn’t really fit in anywhere, I at least understood that I belonged somewhere closer to the man I could hurl rage at for twenty-odd years and still know that both his door and arms would remain open.
Even though he can be a real fucking dickhead sometimes.
The conclusions you draw from that information can be your own. ”
Dad launches himself out of his chair and hugs me before my next breath. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”
I shrug in his arms, but he’s squeezing tight, so it’s hard work.
“I was angry. And sad. And a kid — a kid who everyone looked sideways at for being herself. What power did I have? I was pretty sure nobody fucking wanted me, and I had suspicions that even the aliens who left me behind might have done it on purpose.”
Dad leans back to study my face and then winces. He swallows visibly, and his eyes take on a glassy sheen. “That’s not even meant to be a fucking joke, is it?”
“What do you mean…? Oh.” I shake my head, wishing I had said it to be funny instead of feeling like it was the bone-deep truth.
“I didn’t ever mean to be like this,” I swear to him.
“I was only trying to be useful to people, so they’d want to keep me around.
But no matter what I tried, I only rubbed people the wrong way.
I could see by the end of each Hawkins Christmas week that I’d always worn you down with the strain of having me there.
I couldn’t ask you for more. One week had to be enough. ”
Dad pulls me back in and holds me even tighter as he groans.
“I was struggling by the end of the week because I didn’t want you to leave, Lana.
The closer those special weeks got to their end, the more I had to pull back so I didn’t fall into grief again.
You have no idea how hard it was to let you go that first time.
I shouldn’t have let your mom give you the clean break she swore you both needed from me and my depressive bullshit.
Every Christmas you’d show me what I was missing, and then it was like losing you all over again, every time — but I would’ve held on and not let go if I’d known you wanted to stay. I thought you were happy without me.”
“Dad, you’re squeezing too tight.”
“Sorry.”
He lets go and swipes at his face as he sits back in his chair. “I’m sorry,” he says again, clearing his throat when his voice breaks.
I take his hands and tug him forward until we’re face to face.
“I need to say some things to you. And I can see that you’re tender…”
“Just say them, Lana. It’ll hurt, but it’s the fastest way to deal with the issue, right?”
I give him a sad smile. “Right. The first point I want to make is that you’re a good person, and I love you.”
He blinks quickly several times in a row. “O…kay…?”
“Point two is that my life could have been worse. I was safe and healthy and fed vegetables and crap. And I grew up to be someone that a man as amazing as your best friend could fall in love with. In a matter of hours. He took over that hotel kitchen and made that omelet for me, Dad. If that’s the kind of devotion I inspire, then I am fucking winning at romance, and if you want any advice about how best to approach Sadie, I’ve already made extensive notes.
Also, I’m sorry you have to share your Kelly’s awesomeness with me.
I know how much he means to you, but there’s plenty of him, and we probably mostly covet different parts,” I add with a giggle-snort.
Dad growls as he squints at me. “Nope. No dick jokes. Ever.”
“Aw, Dad. Coffee with milk, and you got my joke? You’re definitely in the running for Father of the Year this season.”
“Hmpf. I’m sure I’ll fuck something up before the award ceremony. And if you think I’m telling you a single fucking thing about Sadie Lawrence, you’re fucking deluded. You’re getting squat.”
“We’ll see. I do have something else to say, if you’re interested in hearing it?”
Dad leans a little further back. “If it has anything to do with what happens between you and Kelly, I’ll pass.”
“It’s not. It’s about you and something you said.”
He looks at me sideways. “Which time? Apparently I say a lot of stupid shit, and I can tell from your face that you think this thing I said was stupid.”
His hands are still in mine, so I give them a squeeze.
“Grief is not depressive bullshit. It’s part of life.
I think you need to forgive yourself for every time you’ve fallen in love with someone new.
You’re going to screw things up with Sadie if you don’t.
Learn from your past mistakes. Please. Your family wants to see you happy.
The last time you really tried to move on was twenty-two years ago — and you weren’t ready for it. ”
“I was—”
“You weren’t ready,” I say again, more firmly.
“I came along and rushed you guys into making a decision, and you both chose something that was doomed to fail. Mom wanted you to love her the way you loved Martha’s mom, and that was an impossible thing to expect.
My mother was not Gabriella, and you were not who you had once been, so recreating the same result was an unattainable prospect.
It’s fine. You got me out of it, and as we’re both coming to understand, I might be turning out to be kind of awesome. ”
Dad’s steel-toes bump against mine. “You’ve always been awesome. It’s just that you can also be an absolute dickhead sometimes. You’re not so dissimilar to your old man that way.”
“There are worse people I could be like,” I reply with a smile. “But seriously. Sort your shit out this time. If you like the girl, try to… act like it.”
Dad gives me a flat stare. “That’s your sage fucking advice? Act like I like her?”
“Yup,” I say with a grin. “And I recommend you ask an expert like Bates for pointers. I’ve only ever felt adored by him — and I know you don’t want to hear about that, but on some level, you must be relieved that I’ll be taken care of by a pro.
When Martha and Harper find the people they want to settle down with, you have to do that whole awkward can-I-trust-this-fucker-with-my-baby-girl thing.
My being with Bates is much better. You’ll see. ”
Dad mutters a bunch of things under his breath, and his mouth is turned down hard, but his eyes are smiling, and that level of agreement counts in my books.