28. father dearest
CHAPTER 28
FATHER DEAREST
LINCOLN
I knew moving would be hard, but it’s the little things that keep tripping me up.
I miss the piece of shit apartment Manny and I had. The one that was four blocks from the tube. The fish & chip shop on the corner with proper curry sauce and battered cod roe fatter than my fist.
I miss sitting on Dad’s couch, arguing over the football, hearing his Wednesday rants about the price of Hobnobs going up and how all of life’s problems could be fixed with an English breakfast or a pint.
I miss being too far away for anyone to have their nose in my business.
It’s only been a month since I left, and while a day hasn’t gone by that I don’t talk to him, it’s not the same. Instead of getting to share a pint or a pot of tea while I contort myself in his awful dining chairs, watching him carve new smile lines with each new story from the pub, I’m on the other side of the world, staring at him through a phone.
“I think dinner is a good idea,” he says, surer than I am. “I’m proud of you for trying.”
Reed doesn’t deserve it after the shit he pulled the other day, but I made Dad a promise before I left, and I won’t let Reed’s bullheadedness deter me.
“Yeah, well. If he could at least show he gives a damn, it would be nice.”
“You know how he is.” It’s a purely Dad answer, straight from the mouth of a man who worked the same job for thirty-eight years of his life. Nothing fancy, but it was “good, steady work.” He met Mum when she was in the UK studying at Oxford. Dad said she had no business at a pub in Hackney, but there she was, a beauty beyond compare.
They did well to last as long as they did. Twenty years is a lot, especially when Deacon didn’t approve of dad’s “simpler leanings.” He hated that we lived in the UK for most of the year, only visiting during school hols. That’s what ate at them the most, I think. Who they were being asked to be wasn’t who they actually were, and it tore them apart.
“You’re both too bloody stubborn for your own good,” he adds. “Used to be, I couldn’t tear you apart. Now it’s like pulling teeth.” He sighs, and I know he feels partly responsible.
I don’t blame Darcy and Reed for choosing Mum, at least not the way Reed blames me for staying with Dad. But I knew she’d be okay without me, and I didn’t want Dad to be alone.
Reed and I never quite fit the same after that. A bone knocked out of alignment, rubbing enough to ache and itch. Of course, we never talked about it head-on. Always around it. Always in riddles and rhymes.
“If it all goes tits up, expect a phone call,” I joke.
“Ah, yes, well,” he says. Dad stammering is a sure sign he’s not telling me something. “Maybe text me first. I’m seeing someone, and it’ll be awkward if I have to choose between you and them.”
“What?” This is news to me. “When did you start seeing someone? And more importantly, why didn’t you tell me about it?”
Christ, this must be how everyone else felt about Ivy.
“It’s early. I don’t want to jinx it.”
“Since when did you become superstitious?”
“When it counts, I’ll take all the help I can get.” And wow. I haven’t heard Dad talk about anyone like this before. “Now explain this relationship you accidentally fell into.”
Ah, yes. Telling Dad the truth about Ivy wasn’t as difficult as I expected, even though he’s on strict instruction to keep it to himself.
“Oh, so you don’t want to tell me about your girlfriend, but I’m supposed to tell you all about mine?”
“It’s that serious, huh?”
I heave a sigh, running a hand through my hair. “It wasn’t supposed to be, but…”
The image of him begins to tilt, and he catches his phone before bringing it close to his face. The angle makes him look older than I remember, eyebrows gone almost transparently silver now, a rich network of lines framing his eyes. It’s a harsh reminder that time is precious.
He clears his throat. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, as you know, and I never thought of myself as someone who should give love advice, but I’ll tell you what I’m going to do. I’m going to make sure she wakes up every day knowing how incredible she is, how lucky I am, and do everything I can to make her as happy as she makes me.” He really is head-over-heels for this woman. “And flowers don’t hurt, either.”
Man after my own heart. “I’m two steps ahead of you, there.”
“Good. I’m very much hoping to meet this Ivy when I visit,” he says, but when I ask him for the details, he starts stammering again. “I don’t have the exact dates yet.” Which is odd because he’s usually so particular about it. It’s where Reed gets it from. “But I’ll see you when you get back from the reunion.”
“Just tell me your flight number, and I’ll pick you up at the airport.”
His face disappears from the frame. “No need. It’s, ah, all sorted. Anyway, have to run, but, ah, we’ll talk soon. Love you.”
My phone screen taunts me after he hangs up. Just what I needed.
More secrets.