Chapter 28
I ran my finger over the Toyota emblem on the steering wheel of my car.
It had a smudge on its otherwise shiny silver surface.
My car wasn’t new; in fact, it was the one I’d brought to college with me almost ten years ago, but I tried to keep it clean and well maintained so I could have it as long as possible.
It was paid off, and I could not add another monthly payment to my life anytime soon.
Plus, it was a hybrid and saved me tons on gas.
I looked around my car for a napkin or tissue to wipe the smudge. There was nothing.
Inside the house, my mom was probably still seething.
We’d just gotten back from an appointment, where the doctor had sent us home with a rental scooter.
I had thought she was excited about it since it would give her more independence, but when I’d wheeled her into the house and then brought the scooter inside, she’d just stared at it.
“It’s easy, Mom, look.” I’d kneeled on the raised pad and used my other foot to push off the ground. “It’s so sleek and agile.”
“You look ridiculous,” she’d said.
“But I don’t feel ridiculous,” I said, even though I did. “I feel fast. Just try it.”
“I don’t want to. I’m dizzy.”
“The doctor said you shouldn’t be.” It had been a couple of days since her fall, but she didn’t seem much better.
“Does the doctor live inside my head?”
“Would he want to?” I’d muttered.
“Leave me alone,” she’d said.
“Gladly,” I’d shot back.
And that’s why I was now sitting in my car. I’d just needed to get out of there. But I knew I couldn’t go far.
There was a tap at my window and I jumped. I looked over to see Tara standing there.
I motioned for her to come sit inside, and she walked around the car and joined me.
“Mom issues?” she asked. I used to sit in my car a lot in high school when I needed space.
“All these years and nothing has changed.” I nodded to the scrubs she still wore. “Did you just get off?”
“Yes, I saw you leaving but didn’t catch you in time. Doctor Lewis said your mom is struggling mentally?”
“He did?”
She put her hand over her mouth. “He didn’t tell you that?”
“Not in so many words.”
“Shit. I shouldn’t have. Sorry.”
“No, tell me. He thinks it’s all in her head?”
“I mean, obviously not all of it. She was in a serious car accident. But the measurable signs of the concussion are gone, and he thinks what’s lingering has a lot to do with her mental health. Her will to get better. Or not to get better.”
The words hit me in the chest as what they implied sank in.
My mom was inside claiming dizziness she probably wasn’t actually experiencing so that what?
My dad might finally come running? On one side, it broke my heart.
On another, I felt nothing. Like there was a brick wall between us and I didn’t care enough to try to tear it down.
Maybe I was the one who had built it in the first place.
If I did, it was with the bricks she’d handed me.
“She wants my dad to come,” I said.
“Your dad?” Tara said in a scoffing voice. “If he hasn’t come in fifteen years, why would he come now?”
“Because she actually has a solid, measurable reason to need him this time.”
She nodded, slowly understanding. “Well, shit. That’s really sad.”
“Seriously … but maybe I should call him.” It was one o’clock in the afternoon now.
That meant it was nine o’clock at night in London.
I didn’t talk to my dad a lot. Maybe once a year when he remembered he had a daughter.
But I knew the time difference. And I knew my window was short right now, he’d be in bed soon.
“And tell him to come?”
I’d never asked my dad to come home, not once. I’d never asked him for anything. Maybe it was time. “Yes, actually. If for no other reason than to give them both closure.”
“Good luck with that,” she said.
“Yeah.” I was going to need it. “How are you? Any more cake emergencies?” Was I asking this as a confirmation that it actually happened? Maybe. Did that make me a terrible person? Also maybe.
“Oh, you heard about the cake emergency? So annoying. I think we got it resolved. Michael probably didn’t tell you it was his fault though. He called and canceled the order as a joke, but the baker took him seriously … obviously.”
“That’s awful.”
“Yeah … Your last therapy session is tomorrow, right?”
“Is it?” I had completely forgotten in the drama of the last couple days. Dr. Franklin had had to push our last one to later because she had taken time off, so it felt like forever since we’d been there.
“Do you think there is any hope in the world that this therapist will figure it out tomorrow?”
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
She sighed.
“But I still think you should insist that Michael go to therapy with you before you get married if it’s important to you. Ask Elijah to help you convince him.”
“Yeah … maybe.”
When I pulled into the parking lot the next day, Elijah was leaning against the trunk of his car, hands crossed low in front of him, waiting for me.
He smiled as I pulled in, and my heart picked up speed.
When had just seeing someone ever lifted my mood so easily?
I hadn’t seen him in a few days, since the morning after my mom had fallen, and I’d missed him.
“Hello,” he said, after opening the car door for me and helping me out. He immediately wrapped me up in a hug.
“You look handsome,” I said, closing my eyes and breathing him in.
When we pulled apart, he looked down at his outfit. “You and your pretty words,” he teased. He wore jeans and a collared green shirt that brought out the green in his eyes. He knew his color.
“You do,” I insisted.
“How’s Mom?”
“Are you calling her Mom now?”
“I’m not going to lie, I forgot her name.”
I laughed. “Andrea.”
“How is Andrea?”
“She ate this morning, took some new pills the doctor prescribed, and stared at the scooter while scowling but did not try it. So pretty much the same.” I had called my dad yesterday, after my talk with Tara, for the first time in …
a long time. He hadn’t answered. I couldn’t decide if I wanted to try again today.
“So not well,” he said.
“Not great.” I was trying not to think about the fact that my dad hadn’t called me back in the last twenty-four hours. That didn’t bode well for my campaign to get him here. For my mom.
Elijah took my hand in his and met my eyes. “Today … if you want to … if you need to…”
“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Lie,” he said.
“What?”
“If you want to lie in session to get some good advice. Advice that will actually help you with your life instead of helping this fake engagement she thinks we have, you can. I can play the terrible fiancé.”
“Are you saying I need therapy?”
“Don’t we all? Isn’t that your mantra?”
I smiled. “How dare you use my argument against me.”
“I’m sorry. You don’t have to, of course. Or if you want, you can go in without me even, I can make up an emergency work call or something.” His offer and the way he offered it, knowing he was a people pleaser and liked everyone to see the best in him, expanded my chest with gratitude.
“You are so sweet. Don’t let anyone tell you that you’re just a pretty face.” I tugged on his hand and walked toward the building, letting him know that no fake work emergency was in order.
“Nobody has ever said that.”
“Really? Huh. Well, disclaimer, that’s what I thought when I first met you.”
“Wow.” He squeezed my hand.
“And for the record,” I said, “I won’t need to lie.”
“Okay,” he said and pulled on the handle. The door didn’t open, it rattled in its frame.
I stared at the door, confused. “Is it locked?”
“It’s locked.”
I tried the handle, like I could produce a different result. I did not.
“Is she sick or something?” I asked. “Did she call you?”
“I don’t have her number. Michael is the one who forwards me messages. He did not forward me anything.”
I turned at the sound of a car pulling into the parking lot.
Dr. Franklin. She parked in the nearest spot and got out of her car.
“Sorry! Sorry!” she called. Unlike her normal pantsuit, she was wearing jeans.
Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that made her look even younger.
“I got held up across town. I’m so sorry.
” She fiddled with her keys as she approached and opened the door quickly.
“It’s okay, we just got here,” Elijah said.
“Give me one sec to get the office ready,” she said, rushing through the door.
We stepped inside and stopped in the lobby. “Get the office ready?” I whispered with a smile. “What does she have in there?”
He laughed, then rested his arms on my shoulders and kissed my forehead.
I breathed in his scent and gripped the sides of his shirt.
I nodded toward the small door to the right.
When this office was an actual house, it was probably used for a coat closet.
I wondered what was inside it now. “You’re right.
I think I could need someone so bad that I’d have the urgent desire to shove them into the nearest small, private space and have my way with them. ”
His eyebrows popped up nearly all the way to his floppy hair. “Really?”
“No,” I said, straight-faced. “I could wait until at least the car.”
He laughed. “You couldn’t even do it in the car. Too many windows.” He kissed me once, then twice.
“I could do it in a car,” I said. “Probably,” I added after analyzing it for a moment.
“God, you’re adorable,” he said.
“I am a strong, capable, intimidating woman.”
“That too.”
“Okay!” Dr. Franklin called from down the hall. “Come on in, guys. I’m ready for you.”