Chapter 41
Venus
“The aphids are back,” I say with irritation. “I’ve applied several applications of the pesticide, and they refuse to care.”
“Hmm, perhaps rain washed it away before it could be entirely effective,” Dad says calmly. “When at first you don’t succeed—”
“Try again. I know.”
“Venus, I sense some distress.” He peers into his laptop camera, as if he might reach through it and feel my forehead for a fever.
He’s sitting on a rustic picnic table outside a quaint pub in Oxford.
It’s late afternoon there. Sunset casts its golden glow through the weeping willow trees behind him and reflects an amber hue from his half-drunk pint.
Wren and Christie wander along the banks of the River Thames behind him.
My Friday morning call began with Dad and Christie introducing Wren, Christie’s daughter, before gushing over Henry’s romantic gesture, a discussion that strangely diverted into the deliciousness of fish and chips and mushy peas.
Though I don’t care much for the delicacy, it made me long for travel again.
I didn’t engage in much conversation with Wren, though she’s intriguing, or Christie, because, frankly, I don’t feel like talking. I want a solution to my problem—that’s all.
“Tell me what’s wrong,” he implores me.
I groan. “If I don’t contain the aphids, they could spread through the entire garden.”
He shakes his head. “Apply once this afternoon and once more in the morning—that should do the trick. Now, tell me what’s really wrong.”
My eyes narrow. “I-I-I can’t be trusted to make good decisions.”
“I trust you completely.” He looks offended, his bushy blond and gray eyebrows pinch behind his glasses as his head pulls back. “You’re taking excellent care of the garden. What do you mean?”
“I suppose I mean that I don’t trust myself.” My head lands against the table with a thump. “I don’t know what to do, Dad.”
“Hmm, explain your dilemma, and I’ll offer my opinion, if you want it,” he urges.
I think about Henry’s advice and nod. “Henry is permanently affixed here, and I’ve been offered an incredible opportunity in New Zealand.
Accepting it means five more years away, and though Henry says we’ll make it work, it’s too great a distance for that to be feasible.
He doesn’t want me to give up the job for him, but I don’t want to be like Dr. Miner with a FaceTime family. ”
“Then what do you want, Venus?” he asks, rubbing his chin.
“I want… to make a good decision that doesn’t hurt anyone, that’s fair to me and those I love,” I say with frustration, “unlike last time. I want an end to this pressure that doesn’t make me run.”
“Do you feel like running?”
“Yes, most of the time.” I huff, fiddling with my jewelry.
A dog barks and chases a frisbee behind him, and I realize that perhaps this isn’t the appropriate time to bring my father into my relationship conundrum. Perhaps Ivy should’ve been my go-to resource.
“It’s just…” I go on anyway. “I left Henry once. He had these plans and expectations for us that I knew I couldn’t live up to—not then.”
“And now?” he pushes.
“Now, I fear disappointing him again. What if I stay, and the novelty of being with me wears off? Or we shift into a dormant season, like we used to do when we were teenagers? Don’t misunderstand—this summer with Henry has been the best of my life.
He’s been attentive, loving, and the sex is incredible… ”
“Um, well…” Dad looks perplexed.
“But how can I make a decision based on such a small sampling? How do I trust it to last? And how do I take such a risk, considering the collateral damage I might cause, not just to Henry but to Olly, too? I feel like I’m in one of Christie’s romance novels, living page to page in a beautiful story that will fall apart when it becomes clear that I don’t belong here. ”
“Why don’t you belong there?”
I shrug. “I’ve never belonged anywhere.”
“That’s a false statement,” he says. “You belong with us—your family.”
As if cued, Christie turns toward the camera from twenty yards away and gives me an exuberant wave.
My forehead scrunches as I wave back. “It is nice having… people.”
“Leaving Henry behind is an experiment that you’ve already performed, and it failed. Ten years apart didn’t stop you and Henry from caring about each other. When it comes to love lasting forever, that’s fairly compelling evidence in your favor.”
“True.”
“Venus, if you hold on to what you love, you have a greater chance of keeping it.”
I can’t fault his logic.
“You belong with Henry,” Dad says slowly to heighten the impact. “Whether that’s here together or with you abroad, that’s only for you to decide. I’m tickled hibiscus pink to learn that staying is a possibility.” He grins, looking sheepish as he pushes his wire frames up on his nose.
“Henry wants me to. It would be more ideal and I… I don’t know.”
“If you stay, stay for yourself, Venus. It should be what you want. But I promise—we’d all love to have you.”
“Thanks, Dad. I, um… I want to amend my answer to your previous question about regrets.”
“Oh?” He looks surprised. “What’s your regret, then?”
“I regret not asking for your advice more often. You’re an excellent father. In the near future, I’d like to discuss the past to bring us both a better understanding, if that’s agreeable.”
His lips part in a stunned gaze. “Um, why yes, of course… and Venus, you’re an excellent daughter. I trust that you were right to leave us, that you made the best choice, especially for yourself. But home is here, whenever you want it.”
“Thank you.” A light smile grazes my lips as emotion builds underneath. “Tell Christie and Wren, thanks for letting me interrupt your pub night.”
“Interrupt anytime,” Dad says. “Oh, and Saturday’s the big campout, correct?”
“Yes, me, Henry, and Olly in the backyard. I’m looking forward to it.”
“It’s a good reason to put big decisions aside for a bit of fun. Memories won’t make themselves. Just beware the coyotes and mind your campfire.”
“Yes, Dad. I know,” I say, rolling my eyes.
“Sending your dad a few pictures would also be appreciated.”
“Hmm, I’ll think about it,” I say with a smile. We soon end the call, and I feel better.