Chapter Thirty-Two
Taylor
I should’ve canceled breakfast with my father.
I’m edgy and overtired. After making Seth’s travel arrangements, I had a hard time saying goodbye, knowing I wouldn’t see him for several weeks, if not longer.
I tossed and turned all night, and this morning my whole body feels wrong.
Like I’m wearing someone else’s skin. But I need to be here, to be sure my father is taking his meds, and eating, and not too worn out from his weekend away.
The smell of burnt toast hits me as I walk in my father’s front door.
So much for my grand plan of surprising him with a delicious breakfast. Barney trots in like he owns the place, nails clicking against the floor, his tail wagging.
He heads straight for Dad, who is sitting at the kitchen table in a flannel and jeans, reading glasses perched low on his nose, his attention locked on his tablet as he nudges Barney with his knee.
“Good morning, Dad.” I set the bakery bag on the counter beside a jar of peanut butter, which is smeared on a half-eaten piece of toast in front of my father.
“Why’s the nuisance here on a Thursday?” he asks without looking up, reaching for his toast.
“Because I needed him.” I begin emptying the bakery bag onto plates. Two ham and cheese croissants, a blueberry muffin, and a small cup of strawberry jam, my father’s favorite.
“Why?”
Because the next few months are going to suck. “No reason.”
He grunts and takes a sip of coffee, giving me a look that says Don’t start with me, kid. “You bribing the brat with muffins now?”
“I got the muffin for you, but don’t tempt me.” I set a plate in front of him with a croissant, the muffin, and jam.
His eyes narrow, and he takes off his glasses. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks, Dad. You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself.”
“You been sleeping?”
I shrug and pop a coffee pod into the coffee maker.
His brow furrows. “Something happen?”
“No.” I reach into the fridge for the orange juice and sigh when there is none. Damn it. I should’ve thought to get it.
“Taylor.”
The way he says it, quiet but firm, in that fatherly voice I can’t ignore, gets to me. “Seth’s going to Australia.”
He frowns. “Yeah? Wasn’t that the plan? Australia for a week or so here and there?”
“Yes, but he’s got to go for a few months.”
“So go with him.” He spreads jam on his muffin. “It’s not like you’ve got a job holding you back.”
I lean against the counter, giving him a deadpan stare.
“You love him, don’t ya?”
As I turn to get my coffee, I see my father’s daily pill case. Today’s pills are still in the Thursday section. “You didn’t take your pills.”
“I was getting to it,” he grumbles.
“Were you?” I snap, and pick up the pill container, waving it at him. “Because this is why I can’t go.”
He presses his lips into a hard line. “I never asked you to stay and babysit me.”
“Don’t.” I smack the container down on the counter. Irritated with myself but unable to rein in my emotions.
“I’m just saying, maybe it’s time you stop treating me like I’m about to keel over.”
“Maybe it’s time you stop pretending you’re fine,” I fire back.
“You think this is fine?” His voice escalates. “You think I don’t know what’s happening to me?”
“I think you act like you don’t care.”
“Because I don’t want to spend what time I have left in a functioning body feeling sorry for myself!” He slaps the table, and Barney jumps up on all fours, looking between us. “You can’t wrap me in Bubble Wrap for the rest of my life or watch my every move.”
“That’s not what I’m doing!”
“Really? Because you’re here all the time, and you can’t even see your own future without me in it.”
“Why is that bad?” Tears burn my eyes. “Stop twisting this into something it’s not!”
He lets out a humorless laugh. “You sound just like your mother.”
My stomach drops, but fury rises. “Oh, now you want to talk about Mom? After years of pretending she never existed? That’s rich, Dad. Real rich.”
His jaw tightens. “You think it’s easy to talk about her?
You think she just woke up one day and decided she was done?
She’d been cheating for years, Taylor. Different men, on and off, for years.
And I stayed every damn time for her, for you kids, and for my own damn, stupid self.
I thought if I just held on, she’d come back for good.
And you know what that got me? Resentment.
Bitterness. Half a frigging life, and I don’t want that for you,” he seethes.
My heart trips over his confession, but I’m too overwhelmed by his view of me to slow down.
“You think that’s what I’m doing? I’m not resentful or bitter,” I holler, tears brimming in my eyes.
“I’m living my life! I went freaking caving and rode in a helicopter.
I’m with someone I love every chance I get! ”
“You’re living half a life, Taylor,” he barks. “Putting your life on hold for mine.”
“Because someone has to care about you! You obviously don’t!” The words rip out of me, desperate and angry.
He pushes to his feet, and Barney scrambles away.
“Don’t you get it, Taylor? I am living. That’s the whole point.
I’m in a race against time with my own failing body, and I don’t intend to waste away waiting for it to stop working.
” He comes toward me, his voice harsh, his eyes blazing.
“I want to go places, to do things, to screw up, to fall down and get up again until I can’t get up.
It’s not denial. It’s refusal to go down easy! ”
“You’re going to kill yourself!” Tears spill from my eyes. “And if I’m not here, you have no reason not to.”
“Stop blaming me for your life! Stop using me as an excuse!”
“I’m not!” My breaths come in deep gasps.
“Then what are you afraid of, Taylor?” He gets in my face, his voice raw and shaking. “Why can’t you just go live your life?”
“Because I don’t want to leave you like Mom did!” The words fly out, too real to take back, so unexpected I can’t breathe.
Dad’s eyes narrow. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out.
Silence engulfs us.
I can’t move. My body shakes and quivers, my knees buckle, and I reach for the counter but crumple under the weight of the words echoing in my head. I sink down to the floor and bury my face in my hands, tears flooding as sobs burst free.
Barney noses at me, whining.
I hear my father lowering himself beside me. His arm circles my shoulder, and he pulls me against him. “I’m even more messed up than I thought,” I choke out.
“Everyone’s a little messed up, darlin’. That’s what makes us human.”
A half laugh comes out with a sob, and it breaks something loose in my chest, bringing more tears. “I don’t know if I can fix myself.” I gasp a ragged breath. “But at least now I know what’s broken.”
He holds me tighter. “You’re not broken, Taylor. You’ve just got a big damn heart like your old man. Sorry, kid.” He kisses the top of my head.
I bury my face in his chest, surrendering to the grief and the love and everything else that’s swallowing me whole.