Chapter Twenty-Two
He’s here. The sperm donor.
I walk through the door of the nursing home and need to lean against the wall to support myself. I haven’t seen him in years, but he hasn’t changed at all. He’s tall, with slightly wild brown hair, and his bright blue eyes look around expectantly. His beard has hints of gray, and there are creases under his eyes, like he’s spent too much time in the sun. I scrunch up my face, trying to remember the last time I saw him. I can’t recall. But what floods my mind are all the times he didn’t show up.
My first day of kindergarten.
When I broke my arm in fourth grade.
The daddy-daughter dance he said he’d pick me up for when I sat in the living room of my grandparents’ house in my fluffy red dress, my hair perfectly curled.
The day of the accident when I lost what I’d ever known of my grandma. The day my grandpa died. My high school graduation. My college graduation.
None of those things would have mattered. I knew he wasn’t in my life much. But at all of those events, he said he’d be there. He allowed me to believe in him, to hope. And each time, I was left feeling like a fool.
It’s not the times he showed up that I remember; it’s the million times he didn’t.
But here he is, sitting in the chair of the nursing home, looking around to his left and then to his right, searching. And all of those feelings of abandonment come right back to me, as if it all happened yesterday. My dad.
“What are you doing here?” My voice is quiet and clipped.
“Beatrice, baby.” His mouth turns up in a smile, and it’s hard to take a deep breath.
“No one calls me that,” I say.
“Still going by Birdie, huh?”
I nod.
My dad stands and continues to look around.
“So, this is where you work?”
I clasp my hands together, and with my thumb, rub the inside of my hand. It’s what I’ve done my entire life to calm myself down in his presence. I dig my nail deeper until it hurts.
“Why are you here?”
He looks so much older than his forty-three years and much more weathered than my mom. His face is tan, and I hate that his eyes are my eyes.
He chuckles. “Can’t your old man pay you a visit? A buddy showed me the paper, and I saw your mom bought this dump. I figured you must be here, too. You know, I only live thirty miles from here.”
“How would I have known that?” I shake my head. “I haven’t seen you in...” I start holding up my fingers. “In a really long time.”
My dad reaches out to grab my arm, but I retreat. “Birdie, you know that isn’t my fault. I was young. I was a mess. You know I’ve always loved you. That’s never stopped.”
“This isn’t the place to have this conversation.” I look around. My shift starts in a few minutes.
“I realize that,” he says. “But I didn’t know where else to find you. When will work for you? Don’t you want to catch up with your old man?”
“What do you want from me?”
“A conversation. Nothing more.”
All my life, I’ve had the inability to shut him out completely. He’s my weakness, and he’s disappointed me every single time. It’s embarrassing how many times I’ve had to learn the same lesson.
The bell above the door jingles, and when I glance over, Liam walks in with Dax, Carrie, and Camilla. We lock eyes, but I quickly look away.
“I can’t imagine what you’d have to say to me.”
His face drops. His eyes wrinkle, and he runs a hand through his beard.
“But if you want to see me, I only work a half day on Friday. There’s a corner café on Main Street. Meet me there at noon.”
He smiles, then presses his hands together. “I’ll be there, Beatrice. I wouldn’t be anywhere else.”
“If you’re not there, then don’t ever come back. This is it. I mean it,” I say.
“I said I’d be there.” He steps back and then turns toward the door.
My eyes once again meet Liam’s, who watches me with curiosity. I take my first deep breath since a few minutes before when I saw him. I unclutch my hands and rush off toward my mom’s office, as she came in early this morning. I knock once, and she opens the door.
She takes one look at my face, pulls me into her office, and wraps her arms around me. The tears start to fall, and I hyperventilate into her shoulder.
“Birdie.” She rubs her hand up and down my back. “I’m here. You’re safe.”
I take short breaths until I’m able to catch mine. My mom grips my face in her hands.
“What happened, Birdie girl?”
“He’s back,” I say.
My mom’s face changes immediately. Her softness turns into the angry protector she’s been forced to be all my life. Her chest starts rising and falling with purpose. She looks around.
“Adam is back?” she says. “He’s here?”
“Yes, Mom.” I walk to her desk and grab a tissue. “I came into work today, and there he was.”
“What in the hell is he thinking?” My mom starts pacing around her office.
“Who knows?” I pull out my phone and look at myself. “He saw the article in the paper.”
“Of course he did. And now he wants something from you. From us.”
“Probably,” I say.
“You owe him nothing, Birdie. Never forget that.”
But what if he’s changed? What if he’s ready to atone for his mistakes and be the dad that I’ve always wanted in my life? These are the reasons I’ve allowed him back in more times than he’s ever deserved.
“Maybe it’ll be different this time?” I raise my shoulders, and my voice is small.
“Highly unlikely,” she says. “I can almost guarantee you that. He’s the same selfish asshole he’s always been. He doesn’t deserve your energy and definitely not your tears.”
I’m usually not a crier, but for the past two days, it feels like all I’ve done. Even worse, I did it in front of Liam, of all people. This is why I don’t open up to anyone. Because once words are out there, I can’t take them back. And now I’m crying over someone who doesn’t deserve any of the pain and anxiety I feel over seeing him.
“I should get to work.”
My mom grabs me and wraps her arms tightly around me.
“I’m fine, Mom.”
“He gave me the most important thing in this entire world,” she says. “You. But besides that, he doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you.”
“I love you.” I pat my face, hoping to remove some of the redness. “We’ll talk later.”
I get back to work, avoiding the lobby where my dad was earlier, even though I know he left. I can feel his presence everywhere. This nursing home was my happy place, but now it’s tainted by him.
A hand grazes against mine as I rush down the hallway, and I turn. Liam is standing there. He pulls me into one of the empty, unassigned rooms. We get inside just as my pager starts to go off. I want to avoid him almost as much as my dad. He knows too much about me.
“What’s up?” I say, holding out my vibrating pager.
Liam narrows his eyebrows. “Birdie.”
He takes both of my shoulders in his hands.
“I really have to go.”
He lets go. “Okay, but who was that man?”
I press my lips together, close my eyes, and then reach for the door.
“The sperm donor.”
Liam’s face falls, but I don’t stick around for his full reaction. Instead, I answer the page and stay busy, which is what I always do to avoid thinking about all the ways my dad has let me down.