24. Jack #2
It was barely three in the afternoon, and he couldn’t even wait to get out of the airport to snag a drink.
I had no idea how he would have gotten alcohol on the plane, but maybe he ordered a drink at the bar when he landed and poured it into his flask.
I caught his eye, and he immediately perked up.
Smiling, he dragged his suitcase toward the truck and chucked it into the bed before opening the passenger door.
I leaned forward so my bump wasn’t visible.
He would throw a fit if it were the first thing he saw.
“My Maggie!” he boomed, clearly tipsy. He climbed into the passenger seat, shut the door, and leaned over the console to hug me. “How are you, honey?”
“I’m good, Dad. How have you been?” The first thing that threw me off was the smell of alcohol that almost made me gag. New nausea trigger unlocked.
It was awful watching my father battle with addiction while I grew up, and I tried not to press him about it.
Sometimes, though, things would get out of control, and I would hide in my room—or worse, get picked up by Lenz Hennicke—when my father got upset about my mother leaving.
Begged her to come back as if she were in the room listening.
He was notorious for that particular behavior when drunk.
“I’ve been good—good, baby girl. Polo kept me busy, but now that Pennsylvania’s season’s over, I’m going to turn some horses out in New York and play over in Massachusetts with the Morenos.
They’ve got a nice place for me to stay.
” The way he slurred and dragged out his words was disgusting.
I didn’t remember his drinking being this bad when I left. It came and went in spurts.
I didn’t want to bring it up and ruin his cheery mood, but…
“Dad, I’m sorry to ask so early, but why are you drinking at the airport?”
He raised his eyebrows. Not in offense, but an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “Why not? There was only one bar in the whole damn airport. Bartender looked lonely, so I went over and bought a beer. No harm done.”
I inwardly rolled my eyes. Of course, there was harm done. He was showing up to meet his daughter, whom he hadn’t seen in three months, half drunk.
“Plus, you know, the nice complimentary drinks they offer you on the plane.”
The airline he flew didn’t offer complimentary drinks. He’d find that out as soon as they sent him the bill.
“I know, Dad, just…I wish we could spend time together while you’re sober. It’s so much more fun that way.”
Pulling the guilt card didn’t hurt a bit.
He sighed and closed his eyes. “I know, Maggie. I’m working on it.”
Was he really? Or was this the same excuse I’d heard for over fifteen years, similar to the one that said, “It’s just one drink?
” It was never just one. It was never just a “fun night.” It was always Dad passed out on the couch after a few too many, waking up just to nurse another beer to “cure the hangover.”
I couldn’t stand it. I wanted my father to mend his ways more than anything, but how could I preach one thing and live by another?
Keeping the secret was only going to worsen the tension between us.
“Anyway, um, there’s something I have to tell you, Dad.
” My heart rate increased from zero to a hundred in less than three seconds.
I was going to loathe every second of this conversation, and I’m sure my dad would, too.
He looked at me intently as I kept my eyes glued to the road.
“Um…Jack and I…well, we…” I took a breath.
I felt like I was going to die if the words left my mouth.
“We got married. And now we’re pregnant. ”
A pause followed—a long pause.
My dad froze before his mouth curved into a small smile.
The small smile turned into a soft chuckle, then turned into a full-blown belly laugh.
His eyes nearly filled with tears at his amusement.
Mine did the same for a completely different reason.
I turned to look at him for a split second, my expression serious.
I flitted them back to the road before the pain and disappointment could flood his face.
“M-Maggie, you’re not serious, are you?” His voice almost broke. Sort of the way I was about to fall apart. A few seconds passed. My mouth couldn’t form words. “Maggie, you are pregnant with Jack ?”
He spat his name like it was a curse word.
I nodded, incapable of speaking.
“I-you-” he stuttered. He was as shocked as I was when my life took a hard left turn.
I couldn’t believe I was almost twenty-three, sitting in the driver’s seat of my fake husband’s truck, explaining to my dad that I had been both married and pregnant for months without his knowledge.
“Why didn’t you tell me? Is that why you came out here in such a rush?
Why Jack Hennicke of all people? He’s going to ruin your life, sweet girl. ”
He was still in a stupor of shock. I couldn’t blame him for making assumptions off the bat.
“Dad, first, I want to tell you how terribly sorry I am. Going to Wyoming with Jack was my only option after finding out I was pregnant. I couldn’t tell you right away because I knew how worried you would be, and I know your feelings about Jack.
But we’ve both established a life out here for ourselves, and we’re doing a great job of it.
I wanted to do it on my own for a few months and prove that Jack and I could deal with the consequences of our actions. ”
“I just…can’t believe you didn’t say anything for this long.
Were you ever going to tell me? If I didn’t book this trip, would I ever have known about my grandchild?
” He sounded hurt, which might have been worse than angry.
I was suffering the guilt I deserved. My hand reached over to touch his forearm.
“Of course, I would have told you. You’re my dad.
You practically raised me all on your own.
” The insinuation of my absent mother made him flinch, and more guilt filled my veins.
“I am so, so sorry I didn’t say anything earlier.
But when you booked this flight out here, I knew I needed to confess it to you in person. ”
My father nodded grimly and uncapped his flask, taking a prolonged sip. “You’re not the only one. I’m going to have a conversation with your husband about this.”
Suddenly, the nerves were back. I couldn’t let him blow up on Jack, because I knew the sensitive part of him would retort and call my dad a shit father. I couldn’t blame either of them for wanting to protect me, but it was my job to protect them from each other.
“Dad, listen to me. As shocked and angry as you probably are right now, I’m begging you, please keep things civil. I had a conversation with Jack about it as well. You two need to be respectful and kind to each other. He knows it, you know it. That’s how it has to be because we’re family now.”
He sighed and nodded. “I can do that.”
“We’re heading to his game as soon as we get there, then I can show you around and give you a tour of the club.”
All I received was another nod. He was upset. Fair.
It was a selfish choice to keep this from him, but what’s done was done. All I asked of him was to be respectful toward the man who took care of me every step of the way.
The rest of the car ride was silent, and guilt ate me up inside. My father didn’t look upset or disappointed, just deep in thought as he stared out the window, likely still in shock.
I pulled into our semi-long driveway toward the house and leaped out of the front seat as fast as possible. “You can keep your suitcase in the truck. We’re just hopping in the gator to go to Jack’s game.”
He grumped as he followed me to the gator and slid beside me. His eyes moved to my bump, and that guilt hit me again with a bang. The ignition made a questionable noise when I started it, but I flew us down the driveway at racecar speed to relieve the uncomfortable tension between us.
“Dad, can we talk about this?” I asked as we drove the short distance to the polo field where Jack was playing.
“I’m still processing it all. You have a whole life here, my Maggie. I just can’t believe I’m just now hearing of it.” I nodded in understanding. He could take all the time he needed. He deserved it.
Jack borrowed one of Mike’s rigs to pull his trailer since I was using the truck, so it took me a beat to find where he was parked. But as soon as I saw those golden locks, I knew it was my husband. I mean, my pretend husband.
Jack’s eyes widened as soon as he caught a glimpse of my unhappy father.
He was in the middle of his pre-game ritual.
He started by putting on his leather polo boots, then his kneepads, his elbow pads, and his gloves.
He would stretch his arms in a few different positions, all of which I enjoyed watching, then bend down to touch his toes.
Just as he reached for his blue Gatorade Zero—a light blue Gatorade Zero, and it couldn’t be any other color—we approached him.
I could tell that his greeting face wasn’t real as soon as we locked eyes.
Remembering that we needed to keep the jig up, especially around my dad, I walked over to give him a side hug and a kiss on the cheek.
“Hi, baby,” he smiled into the kiss and tightened his grip around my waist. “Everything go okay?”
I nodded with the most authentic fake smile I could muster. “It was great, honey.”
He knew I wasn’t okay. His subtle eyes told me we would talk about it later, then he moved to my father.
No doubt the judgmental once-over he offered him would come back to bite him in the ass.
Jack probably already knew Richard was buzzed.
He didn’t let go of me, though, as he stepped forward to shake his hand.
“Mr. Rynne, it’s so nice to have you out here to visit. Good to see you again.”