Chapter 16 #2
Inside, I lock the door and sit down at the dining room table, replaying the conversation. The comments she slid in like they were harmless. The way she framed Addison as fragile without ever saying the word.
Addison didn’t ask me to intervene. In fact, in a sense she’s asked me not to. I’m not included in her family events. That matters.
But so does the fact that every time her grandmother shows up, Addison folds inward like something’s been taken from her.
The line between standing by and stepping in feels thinner than it did an hour ago. I’m just staying alert. Calling Addison to tell her about Evie’s visit would only add weight to a night that already has enough of it. She doesn’t need that from me.
But my thoughts keep circling anyway. How can I make sure Addison isn’t handling all this pressure alone, even if she thinks that’s what she wants?
She’s told Emma, but is that enough? I need someone whose perspective is better than mine and someone who has all the facts needed to discuss this with me.
I check the time. Early. Dinner probably hasn’t even started.
I pick up my phone and open Emma’s contact.
I pause there, aware that I should stop. This isn’t neutral. I’m stepping into something Addison didn’t invite me to.
But the idea of doing nothing feels worse.
Me: Hey. Random question. Are you going to Addison’s family dinner tonight?
Emma: No. It’s just the siblings. Why?
I stare at the screen, thumb hovering again. I could leave it there. Curiosity. Nothing more. But my chest is tight from her grandmother’s voice, from the way she implied Addison needed managing.
Me: Her grandmother’s been circling lately. Just wanted to make sure someone’s got eyes on her.
Emma’s typing bubble appears, disappears, and then comes back.
Emma: They do this every month. It’s fine. Evie wouldn’t jeopardize her relationship with Ric and show up without a specific invitation.
I exhale.
Me: Okay. I just don’t trust her.
Emma: That’s very smart.
I find myself nodding. Emma sees the problem here too. And Addison never asks for help when she needs it.
Me: Evie was waiting for me in my uncle’s driveway this evening, so I’m worried. I think I should tell Addison.
Emma: Evie does that to me sometimes, wanting to know if Addison’s okay. Or at least that’s what she says. I’ve thought about telling her she could just call, but I’m not sure I want to open that kind of communication. I might regret it. I usually don’t mention it to Addie, though.
Me: Totally understand what you’re saying. Thank you for making me feel less crazy.
I set the phone down and stare up at the ceiling. Letting Addison know what’s going on isn’t taking charge. It’s just concern.
I check the time again. Dinner is probably underway now. I’ll just leave a quick message.
I dial the phone, and it rings before rolling to voicemail.
“Hi. It’s me. I just wanted to touch base.
Evie was at my uncle’s this evening when I got home from picking up my dinner.
She knew a lot about us… Uh… I’m not sure what to do.
I talked to Emma… Anyway, I’m worried, and I’m wondering if I should pick you up. Can you please call me back?”
I hang up, not feeling any better and still unsure whether that was the right call or not. But there’s nothing to do now but wait, so I sit at the table and eat without really tasting it, the television on low, more for noise than interest. I check the clock once, and then again.
Finally, my phone rings. A smile spreads across my face and my pulse races when I see it’s Addison.
“Hey,” I say in greeting.
“I don’t need you to pick me up,” she says.
No greeting. No warm-up.
I glance at the television. “Okay, I just… It threw me a little that your grandmother stopped by my uncle’s.”
“I’m not happy about her showing up at your house, but I will deal with that. It’s not an emergency. That’s the kind of thing she does. And you talked to Emma?”
“Yes,” I confirm. “I texted her. I wasn’t sure what to do.”
“And what did she say?”
I close my eyes. Just for a second. “Not to worry about it,” I concede.
There’s a beat of silence. “I’m sorry Evie stopped by. But I told you I was fine,” she says. “I’m with my family. There’s nothing to worry about.” Her voice isn’t raised. She doesn’t sound hurt. She’s calm in a way that makes me squirm.
“I know,” I say. “I wasn’t trying to step into anything. I just—your grandmother’s been—”
“Stop,” she says.
I stop.
“This is my dinner,” she continues. “Mine. I didn’t ask for backup. I didn’t ask for monitoring. I didn’t ask you to manage it.”
“I wasn’t managing,” I protest. “I just wanted—”
“Stop. I can handle my own family. I’ve been doing it for years.”
“I never said you couldn’t,” I assure her. “I just wanted you to know what was going on.”
She stays quiet, listening.
“When Evie showed up, it felt like something you’d want to be aware of. I didn’t want to ignore it.” I shift slightly in my chair. “So I checked with Emma, more like a consult than anything else. And I thought you should know in case Evie corners you when you get home or shows up somewhere else.”
She still doesn’t say anything.
“I was trying to make sure you had the information you need.”
“I can handle my grandmother.”
I sigh. This is not how I wanted her to take this. “I’m sorry. Evie talked about you. About us,” I tell her. “She seemed to know I’d be here and not at your apartment. I didn’t like it.”
“I don’t like it either,” Addison says. “That doesn’t mean you get to decide how I deal with it.”
I swallow. “I’m trying to help. You don’t have to do this on your own.”
“I know that,” she snaps. “That’s what makes this worse.”
My breath stalls in my throat.
“You need to understand that I’ve been doing this for years on my own. I don’t need you to insert yourself. That is not okay.”
I open my mouth, and then close it again. There’s an apology ready, sitting right there, but I can already tell it’s the wrong one. I’m sorry you felt that way won’t touch this. I was just worried won’t either. I don’t understand quite why she’s having such a strong reaction.
“This is a line for me,” she says. “This is what Evie does. She decides what I can handle and moves around me instead of asking. I don’t want that dynamic in my life—from anyone.”
Okay, I guess that’s why. I’m silent a moment. When I speak, my voice is quiet. “Okay.”
“I need you to hear this,” she says, and now, there’s something softer underneath. “Caring about me doesn’t mean you get to insert yourself into all aspects of my life.”
I let that sit between us. None of this is at all what I was trying to convey.
“I’m going to finish dinner with my family,” she adds. “We’ll figure out how to deal with Evie. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
There’s no threat in it. No withdrawal. Just space being clearly claimed.
“Okay,” I tell her. It’s the only word I have that won’t make this worse.
She hangs up before I can add anything else.
I wasn’t protecting her; I was trying to take over. That’s what she thinks. Perhaps she has a point. With everything I’ve learned about her grandmother, maybe that’s a distinction I should’ve known better than to blur.
I finish my dinner and stare at the rest of the hockey game. It seems very quiet and still without Addison.
Later, as I’m climbing into bed, my phone pings.
Addison: I made it home. Sorry again that my grandmother showed up at your uncle’s. My siblings and I discussed that and the fact that she’s been coming by my apartment. Ric is going to address it.
I’d love to be there when he does, but nowhere in what Addison says is an invitation.
Me: I’m glad you’re safe. Sleep well, and I’ll bring over lemongrass chicken pho tomorrow night.
Addison: Thanks. See you then.
I set the phone down, still feeling a little shell-shocked.
Addison doesn’t want to feel she’s being managed. She doesn’t want anyone else weighing in on how she handles her personal life. Well, maybe that’s not entirely true, but she doesn’t want me to, and she doesn’t want Evie to.
That was not my intent, but I realize I’m in uncharted waters. I’m the father of her child, but what am I beyond that? It’s hard to say. It’s clear that I’ve now crossed the line once, though, and I don’t think I’ll get to cross it again if I want the door between us to remain open.
So hopefully I’ll recognize it next time.