Chapter 22
TWENTY-TWO
LEXI
“He’s here?” I’ve never heard Rory’s voice so icy, her gaze trained on mine, refusing to look back to her right after she physically flinched when she saw his presence.
“Family reunion,” I say, in a tone that’s way too jovial for the setting. Or it would be, if you didn’t catch the blades lacing my words.
“Did you set a trap for me?” Her voice is low enough Dad probably can’t make out the words, but if I look over there, I just know what I’ll see on his face.
He still loves her, and getting to see her, even if she refuses to look at him back, it’s going to be the highlight of his year.
If I see his eyes watering in disbelief while she won’t deign to look his way, I might actually deck her.
“Because everything revolves around you, right?” I scoff back at her. “God forbid I had Dad over for my own reasons. No, it had to be about you?”
She rolls her eyes, shifting in place, mind racing faster than the industrial food processor in the kitchen back at the diner.
“I’m leaving,” she finally says, coming to a conclusion.
“Shocker,” I say, rolling my eyes back at her.
“Don’t go,” Dad speaks up.
“I’m not seeing him,” she says again to me, walking backward down my stoop.
“I’ll leave,” he says again, lunging forward. “You girls stay, please. I just want to say one thing, and then I’ll go.”
Rory shakes her head, eyes finally shooting from me to him, teeth gritted, but she stopped walking.
“I’m sorry. Sorry I couldn’t be the man your mother deserved, or the father figure you did. I’m sorry I’ve missed all this time with you, and I’m sorry about what happened to your mother.”
Rory’s toe starts tapping, and the urge to kick the back of her knee out flares strong in me.
“Lexi’s right. Being sorry doesn’t change the past, but for what it’s worth I tried reaching out. I never wanted a life without my girls in it.”
Pulling a parcel out of his jacket, he taps it on one open palm for a second, indecision on his face.
“After your mother…” He clears his throat and tries again.
“When Duke was going through her things, he came across these. Sent them back to me to do what I would with ’em.
I think it was his way of giving his blessing.
I brought them today to ask Lexi to give them to you, but I guess I have the honor. ”
Stepping onto the stoop, he reaches out with the package, putting it in Rory’s reach.
When she realizes he won’t go without giving it to her, she almost rips it from his grip and he nods once, taking another step down before looking back at both of us one last time.
“Lexi, I’m so proud of you and everything you’re doing with our diner.”
I nod, what I can manage of a smile on my lips for him.
“Rory,” he starts, and her shoulders stiffen.
“If this is the only time I ever get to see you, seeing you this once will have to be enough. My new favorite memory, seeing my girls again.” His voice soft, eyes warm, mine sting at the sight.
“You’re more beautiful than I imagined, and your mom would be so damn proud of the woman you are. I know I am. I’ll always love you.”
There’s no sound but his footfalls back to his car, the crunch of the grass under his feet as he goes, and once his car door closes, the engine cranks, and he pulls off, we head back inside.
“If I’d known…” she trails off.
“You wouldn’t have come,” I finish for her.
She tilts her head in admission.
“Because we’re all supposed to forgive you, even though you can’t forgive Dad.”
“Lexi?” She says my name like a question, voice dangerously thin.
I glare at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of answering the little melodramatic sting she’s trying to set up. Just say what you fucking want and move on.
“What did Dad mean by our diner?”
“The family legacy,” I offer, shrugging, even as my stomach hollows, pouring acid across every organ in its vicinity.
“Alexis Marjorie.”
I hate when she’s quiet like this. It’s more my speed if she’s yelling at me, so I can get right back in her face and point out all her flaws, because that’s what my defense mechanism does.
Don’t look at me, don’t look at all the ways I’m a fuck up.
Deflect, deny, defend.
The most haunting thing, though, is the look in her eyes. It’s a kind of realization that chills my bones.
“Is he where you got the money from?”
Mouth spluttering, I try to find a way to keep the charade going.
“You didn’t really save all that while working at the grocery store, did you?”
“And so what? Because I didn’t have a fancy job like you, I didn’t have the money to start the business? I got the money, isn’t that what matters?”
Slamming her eyes shut, she shakes her head back and then forth.
“No, Lexi.”
“Dad helped me. He’s a silent investor, all he did was chip in for the down payment. Get over it. This is why I didn’t tell you in the first place. I knew you wouldn’t let me.”
“It’s not that,” Rory whispers, genuine pain on her face.
“Then what?” I spit out, tired of her pauses.
“Lying on that grant form was fraud. Material misrepresentation and fraudulent disclosure, at the least. It automatically invalidates your grant, and, as the commissioner, I’m obligated to report it. You’re going to lose the restaurant, Lex.”