Chapter Twenty-Eight
Liam rolls over, and I grab my robe and cover myself. I glance at the clock on my nightstand. I’m supposed to meet my dad to go car shopping in less than an hour. I pick out clothes from the closet, go into the bathroom, and shut the door. I sigh as I stare at myself in the mirror.
What just happened felt like inevitability. And now we can both move on. I pull a dress on, and when I walk out of the bathroom, Liam is already dressed.
“Hey,” he says. His hair is tousled, and he smiles at me. “Any interest in going out to the lake? I’d like to change out of these clothes. We could cook dinner, have some wine, and start a fire. Have a different kind of lake day.”
“I can’t.” I tie my hair up in front of the mirror, then walk to the door. “I’m actually meeting the sperm donor shortly to look at a car.”
Liam stands. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”
“Probably not.” I shrug. “But he says he knows a lot about them, which is convenient because I need one.”
Liam tucks his shirt into his pants. “Do you think he’ll show?”
“There’s always a fifty percent chance.”
“I know some things about cars, too.” He holds my arm. “I don’t want to see you get hurt, Birdie.”
“I appreciate that.” I let out a deep breath.
Liam releases me from his grip. “How about when you’re done? I can pick you up. We can stay here if you’d rather. As long as the ghost doesn’t protest.”
He smiles so innocently, but my wall is already going up. I’m not worried about my dad hurting me. I feel impenetrable.
“I can’t,” I say, turning away from him and walking out of the room. “I need to get groceries, do about five loads of laundry, and I’m tired and need to get to bed early.”
“Yeah, okay.” Liam reaches for his suitcase and hauls it down the stairs.
He reaches for the doorknob, pauses, and then spins to face me.
“Did I do something wrong, Birdie?” He presses his back against the door. “Everything felt magical, and now I feel like you can’t get rid of me fast enough.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I just have a lot to do. We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Yeah.” Liam releases his suitcase, grips my chin, and tilts it up.
He presses his lips against mine, and even though I want to resist this touch, my mouth opens, and he sweetly kisses me.
“Bye, Birdie.” He looks at me and hesitates, but then walks out the door.
I don’t know how I should feel. I was hoping that it would feel like goodbye for both of us and that he would quietly leave afterward, with no mention of continuing things.
It can’t happen again.
Ever.
Because the pain of Liam moving away will become that much more unbearable the closer we get.
My dad is already waiting for me when I arrive at the used car lot on the north side of town. I’m relieved when I see him standing there, speaking to an employee. Not because I care about him, but because having no car is beyond inconvenient, and I need someone who knows what they’re talking about to help me through this process.
“You came,” I say, and my dad turns to me, a big smile plastered across his face.
“Well, of course,” he says. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“You don’t have a good track record of showing up when you say you will,” I say flatly.
“You always want to live in the past.” He puts his hands on his hips. “Just like your mom. There are a hundred places I could be besides here. Just say the word.”
“It doesn’t matter to me if you stay or go,” I say. His eyes wrinkle, and I realize nothing has changed. I still don’t have it in me to hurt him. “But you’re already here, and I could use the help.”
“Well, okay then.”
The lot is lined with cars, at all price points. I gravitate toward the ones that are understated, either white or black.
“This one here is nice.” My dad pats the top of a four-door sedan. “It has low mileage, and the price is right. What do you think?”
“How about that one?”
I point to a white Jeep and walk toward it. It looks sporty, and the sunroof extends nearly the entire roof. I imagine driving in warm weather with it completely open.
He reads the information. “The tires are in good condition, but it’s got a lot of miles on it.” He pulls the door open for me, and I sit in the driver’s seat.
I like it. It sits tall and would be good in the Minnesota winters. The interior is dark leather, and everything appears to be in mint condition.
“These seats are going to feel hot in the summer,” my dad says, getting into the passenger seat. “The sun will heat these right up.”
“This is the one I want.” I smile, gripping the steering wheel.
“A Jeep, Birdie? Really?” He studies the card inside with all of the information. “It’s not very practical.”
“Let’s take it out for a test drive.”
We get the keys from inside, and I drive the Jeep around town and out to the lake. I open the windows and the roof. My hair blows in the wind. I love how free I feel in it.
“This is the one,” I say.
“Why did you have me come with you if you weren’t going to listen to me anyway?”
“I did listen.” I smile at my dad. “But I chose this one.”
He effectively barters with the owner of the dealership to get me a better deal, which is good because money isn’t something I have in excess. I study him as he sits next to me at the desk, working out the final details. My entire life, I’ve dissociated myself from him. It was always easier that way. But there is no mistaking that I got his vibrant blue eyes. Even the shape of them is the same. I also got his freckles. The rest of my features, though, I got from my mom.
An overwhelming sense of pride fills me when I’m handed the keys. My last car was a junker my mom gave me, but this is the first one I’ve ever bought for myself.
“I’ll never forget my first car,” my dad says as we walk outside and toward my new Jeep. “I was sixteen and had just met your mom. I wanted to impress her. Everyone in our little town liked her.”
“You look just like she did, you know?” He chuckles. “I wasn’t sure you were even mine at first until you opened your eyes. The color was indistinguishable.”
“I don’t know what that says about how you feel about Mom if you weren’t sure I was yours.”
“Lighten up, Birdie. It was a joke.” I reach my new Jeep and run my hand over the smooth paint. “All I meant is you were the spitting image of her. Which is a good thing. I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”
I slowly turn to him and lean back. “Why’d you never try to make it work with her?”
He runs his fingers through his unkempt beard. “I tried. For a while. Even lived in the old ranch house of your grandparents with you and your mom. But all we did was fight. She liked to point out that I wasn’t good enough for her or for you. She wasn’t wrong. It was easier to leave.”
“You didn’t have to leave me.” I dig my fingers into my palms. “You took away my choice in the matter.”
“You cried constantly. There was nothing I could do right. I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“I was a baby.”
Our conversations through the years always lead to this one place. He left for me. There hasn’t once been accountability or an apology. I never press it further than this or ask why he said he’d show up so many times, only to leave me stranded.
“Why are you here?”
“You’re my daughter,” he says, kicking a rock with his boot.
“Yes, your sperm created me, but why are you here?”
He tucks his hands into the deep pockets of his jeans. “Because I know where you live now. And I have the time. I work for a construction company, and we’re between jobs. I figured I’d come here and check on you.”
“Well.” I unlock the door and get into my brand-new vehicle. “I appreciate your help, but I think I’ll take my Jeep out on the open road.”
“Care to have lunch again?” He backs away from the Jeep.
I hesitate. “Maybe. I’ll let you know.”
He nods. “Okay. Let me know.”
I get into the driver’s seat and glance at him, standing by his car. He watches me pull away.