Chapter 22 Back Home
BACK HOME
LEAH
Iarrived at my sister’s doorstep in the early morning hours.
Sean, my beloved brother-in-law, made me breakfast. He was up at the break of dawn like any good surgeon.
While my sister and niece slept, I read a coffee table book about the world’s most interesting triathlons.
It was time to call my attorney to say I needed to serve my fiancé with eviction papers.
Charlotte woke and made more coffee as she packed my niece’s backpack for school.
My niece, Gina, was surprised to see me there when she woke.
She jumped for joy when I decided to walk her there and give her very pregnant mother a break so she could get out the door.
Jet-lagged and under-slept, I took her three blocks to her preschool.
She was three, and had no filter. She talked the entire way.
Once Charlotte and Sean were both at the hospital for surgery, I went to find my fathers. It was a picturesque morning to drive the lakeshore to my childhood home in Buffalo Shores.
“God damn it, George! I heard the damn door! I will get it!”
I heard Dad coming to answer. I was about to surprise him.
He answered, confused. “Leah, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”
“Having a personal debacle. Um… Daddy, can I just… come in?”
“Of course, sweetie,” he said.
I entered. “Things… aren’t good. I showed up super early at the house—Charlotte and Sean are taking care of me like their second child. I hate it, but being the fuck up I am—”
“You’re not a fuck up, sweetheart.” Dad wrapped his long arms around me.
Patrick Roughy was the football star of his age.
He was born in America but made a mark in the UK that few matched.
That was how he met Papa. Their love story is a bit convoluted, but the short of it is they eventually came out and moved here.
They were married on the patio when I was in utero.
This had always been home to me. Even in his seventies, he nearly broke me in two with a hug.
“Do I hear Leah?” Papa appeared as I cried into Dad’s shoulder.
“Yes, George. Who else would it be?”
“You are in a mood. I don’t need the lip, Pat.”
They fought like annoyed teenagers but loved one another like none other. I would have lived for pointless bickering and banter if someone truly respected me.
“Darling, what is the matter? Weren’t you just all over the news at the Met?”
“Uh… it’s complicated. Can you make me tea so I can cry about it to you?”
“Of course.”
Papa headed to the kitchen. Dad and I followed. I took a stool at the kitchen island as Papa put the kettle on. A proper tea spread appeared. It was exactly what my heart needed.
“Last night, I held Rich’s phone while he did an interview. And another woman texted him about skipping out. I wasn’t snooping. It just displayed. I didn’t go through his phone. I never would. Perhaps I should have? But I confronted him about it. He didn’t deny it.”
“And what do you plan to do?” Papa asked.
“George!” Dad admonished.
“I broke it off.”
“Yes, I can see your ring on the other hand. Pat, bring those biscuits over, darling.”
Dad sat biscuits on the table. Papa imported chocolate-dipped digestives in bulk. I shoved one in my mouth before speaking.
“Eat. Take whatever you need,” Dad said.
“He tried to shame me for my past and accused me of cheating,” I continued. “For me, that was the final nail. If he had said he was done, made a mistake, and wanted to work on it, I would have considered forgiving him. And maybe it would work if we had opened things up?”
My dads shared a concerned look.
“That’s not how it works,” Dad said. “The last bit. That’s a conversation you have when things are going well. It’s not a knee-jerk reaction, sweetheart.”
“I hate talking about this,” I whined.
Papa shrugged. “I won’t get into it. What I will say is you deserve better.”
“Do I? I wasted five years of my life on him. Five years! In the end, he betrayed me. Am I unlovable? Maybe this is what I deserve.”
Dad patted my back. “Sweetheart, it’s not like that. You are very lovable— by so many. All of us.”
“But my life isn’t uncomplicated. I am not sure I can blame him.”
“Your job is challenging. It will take a special person, but if you find that person, they will be the right one.”
I sighed. I knew Dad was right, but it hurt to think that it wasn’t something I could fix.
“And now I’m going to be working nonstop for the next six months. No breaks. I cannot imagine how that will help my prospects.”
“Yes, in New York, how will you find anyone?” Papa asked.
“Papa, God!”
“What? It’s true. And if someone like you—someone so talented and sweet—cannot find someone, I will eat my hat.”
I loved Papa’s belief that his children were perfect. Charlotte and I were his world. We knew it. And maybe for now, it was the speech he knew I needed.
“I feel bad. I could have had a free summer and fall. I feel like an evil sister and sister-in-law being this far from Charlotte and the baby. I should be here—”
“I know it feels that way to you, sweetie,” Dad said. “But that’s not the case.”
“I guess I am waiting for the moment when I feel like a grown-up and don’t come to you whining like this. When does that happen?”
“I cried to Granny until the day she died when I needed a pick-me-up. It was inevitable. She and Auntie Nat were always my sounding boards. It’s okay to lean on your family, Leah. You are like any other adult with a family who loves her.”
“Well, I think I’m off men forever,” I grumbled.
“Uh-huh.” Papa chuckled. “Not all men cheat. You need to find someone willing to make the commitment and mean it. Women are challenging in different ways.”
He wasn’t wrong. Women were clever. I could be demanding, needy, and inflexible. Women demanded more emotionally than men. Ultimately, I’d given that to Rich, and he broke my heart. I suspected I’d never make it work with any particular gender of person. Maybe I was just incapable?
“Can I make a suggestion, sweetheart?” Papa asked.
“Sure.”
“I’m not an expert. My relationship history is a right mess, but I have a bit of wisdom.”
“Go on.”
“Stop dating politicians. Don’t date a fame monster.
It will only get you in trouble. Date a normal person who wants a private life.
You have a public enough life for three people.
Take it from me, Leah. It is better to have someone to ground you.
Find someone willing to play support person and take care of you. ”
“You are the nurturer, Georgie,” Dad said.
“And you always pick me up when the news cycle gets me down. You let me retreat and keep the world out. I needed that, Patrick. She needs the same. Someone who gets it. Someone unfazed by it.”
I stared at my tea, not sure what to say. He was probably right. I had to choose someone who didn’t attach themself to me for fame but wasn’t bothered by my celebrity.
“Oh, and you won’t be alone!” Papa declared, slapping the kitchen island excitedly. “Lucy rang.”
“Lucy rang?” I snickered. “What now?”
Dad chuckled, always amused by how Lucy Ferguson’s London gossip delighted Papa.
“Mac is coming to New York. He should be around in the next couple of weeks. Something about research. Reach out to him. You can both nurse your wounds.”
I smiled. “God, I’ve missed him. I hope he’s okay. It’s been ages.”
“Well, you can see him. I don’t think he’s got a full social calendar,” Dad said. “You could use a good friend or two. Between Mac and Lourdes, you might have a shot at having a good summer.”
I nodded, a little more hopeful. “I will try to reach out. We can start a lonely hearts club… just the three of us. I mean, if that’s not so sad.”
“Why not?” Papa asked. “You two have been joined at the hip since infancy. It would be good for you both. And he and Lourdes… have things in common.”
“Such as?” I laughed. “They’re both recently divorced and British?”
“The point is you are all young,” Dad patted my hand. “Young, vibrant people with a whole life ahead of you. Don’t spend it sulking. Go out. Enjoy life. You’re not the only one starting over again at thirty-five.”