Chapter 25
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
kate
Just rip off the bandage, Kate. Call your mom and tell her you might want to meet your dad. What’s the worst she can do? Yell at you about it. Been there, done that.
It’ll be fine. I’m an adult. I can do this. Or that’s what I keep telling myself as I stare at my phone, trying to procrastinate for a few more minutes before calling.
Fuck it.
After tapping my mom’s name, I hold my breath as I sit on the couch on the bus. Although Jake offered to be by my side, I’m determined to have this conversation alone. As much as I know he doesn’t believe any of the hurtful things she can say about me, it doesn’t mean I want him to hear them.
“Hello, Katherine. What do I owe this pleasure?”
Great. The passive-aggressive bullshit is starting already. Why can’t she be happy that I’m talking to her, rather than taking a jab at me about the frequency of my calls?
Do not let her bait you into an argument. We’re not doing that shit today.
“Wanted to give you a quick update on how Jake’s team is handling the increasing attention we’re getting,” I respond in an eerily calm tone.
I spend the next couple of minutes filling her in on our plans to find a more suitable housing option in Chicago, the potential impact of Jake’s upcoming album, and how his team is attempting to corral the media.
Unsurprisingly, none of it meets her unrealistic expectations.
“One would think, if Jake had the best people on his team, they would’ve handled this nonsense by now,” my mom replies coldly. “Perhaps he needs to reevaluate the caliber of the so-called experts working for him.”
I wince, picturing Anna hearing my mom say those words.
The five-foot-four-inch blonde would launch into the most polite Southern takedown this world has ever seen.
Now that I think about it…is it too late to add Anna to this call?
Allow her to fire back at some of my mom’s wrath? At least that would be entertaining.
With a hand on my chest, I inhale and exhale deeply before responding, “Jake’s team is the best-of-the-best, especially when it comes to PR.
What we’re going through is solely because any drama is considered breaking news until something bigger comes along.
Eventually, it will die down.” Or that’s the lie I’m telling myself because it can’t possibly be like this forever.
“Is that all you have?” she asks, acting as if I’m interrupting her from something important when she mentioned earlier how she was sitting on the front porch doing nothing.
I clear my throat, forcing myself to be brave and blurt out what I need to say before she can have too big a reaction and stop me.
“With the increased interest in my personal life, we felt it was best to hire a private investigator to locate my father. Try to find information about his whereabouts and lifestyle before someone else does.” I purposefully leave out my own interests in locating my dad and how I’ve wanted to search for him for years, because I know that will only make the situation ten times worse.
“Oh.” Her tone is laced with bitterness. “Let me guess, Jake’s team is worried your father will come out of the woodwork, looking to make a quick buck off Chase Elliott. Wouldn’t surprise me at all.”
I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth. “I’m sure there is always a concern that anyone from my past or Jake’s could choose to capitalize on his fame, but this is more about wanting to control the narrative.
If someone else brings up my dad, we have to play defense.
Finding him allows us to have a full picture and determine how and when we want to use that information. ”
“I see,” she replies sharply. “Does this mean you’ll be meeting him? Wanting a relationship with him after everything he’s done to you. To me.”
Here we go. This is what I expected. Her indignation about all of it.
How should I handle this? Blatantly lie, pretending I have zero interest in meeting my dad.
Or be honest because I don’t know what I’ll do.
There are too many variables to make that decision at this moment.
The nonconfrontational part of me wants to go with the first option, telling a white lie to end this conversation.
The stupid adult part of me decides the latter is the only suitable option.
Why does being an adult have to suck so much?
Exhaling deeply, I close my fists tight, digging my nails into my palms, feeling the small flicker of pain for a brief moment before answering, “I don’t know, Mom. It really depends on what information we find once we’re able to locate him. He could be dead, for all I know.”
“That might be the best-case scenario,” she mutters, quiet enough it’s difficult to hear her clearly, but loud enough to make out what she says.
Almost daring me to confirm it. Not going near that one.
“I don’t see why you would want that man in your life.
He walked out on us decades ago. Doesn’t that tell you everything you need to know? ”
Plastering on a fake smile, not because she can see it, but to remind myself to remain calm and not engage with her. “Rehashing the past doesn’t change anything. I’m focused solely on the future and believe it’s good to at least know some basic information about him. Nothing may come from this.”
“Are you doing this because of Jake?”
“What? No. Why would you think that?”
“You had zero interest in finding your father when you were engaged to Brian. Now, you’ve hired some fancy private investigator to track him down as if you’re desperate to have him in your life. Whose idea was that? Yours or Jake’s?”
Huh? Where is she going with this line of questioning? It doesn’t make sense, even for her.
“It was my idea,” I answer dryly, doing everything in my power to control the tone of my voice, immensely grateful this isn’t a video call. “Jake’s team is merely coordinating everything with the private investigator.”
“I find that hard to believe, Katherine. Perhaps you need to reconsider whether this is the lifestyle you want for yourself and your loved ones. You and Jake have only been together a few months, and I’ve already had countless people traipse across my yard, read frivolous articles about us, and watched Judy’s memory be desecrated.
Now you’re about to force me to relive my divorce. For what? To further Jake’s career?”
This is a new one. Haven’t heard her rip into Jake’s career choice yet and how it impacts her. Because, at the end of the day, the only thing that matters is what she wants and needs. Nothing else. No one else.
It took me a long time to realize this about her and the impact her behavior has on my mental health. It’s why I have worked so hard to set clear boundaries when it comes to my mother. Why I won’t tolerate her tearing me down anymore. Why I limit how often we talk.
I sigh, rubbing my temples as I stare at the phone. “None of this is about furthering Jake’s career. If he could make the invasion of my privacy stop, he would do it in an instant. I already told you about how he was willing to scrap his entire album if it made me uncomfortable.”
“Or so he says. It’s really convenient for him that you agreed to go along with it.
” Her tone is laced with a combination of annoyance and doubt.
“When push comes to shove, do you know what Jake will choose? The career he’s spent almost an entire lifetime working for.
Or the first allegedly serious relationship he’s ever had.
It wouldn’t surprise me if things between the two of you end in the next few months.
Where will that leave you? Alone. Again. ”
Damn. That one hurt. My eyes fill with tears as the bravery I had at the beginning of this call wanes. She’s intentionally preying on my worst fears. Casting doubt on how Jake feels about me. My worthiness.
“I’m not going to defend my relationship. I’ll talk to you later,” I say, my voice trembling as I abruptly end the call before she can get in another barb.
Even though I knew this might happen, I wasn’t prepared for the emotional onslaught her words would bring. Pulling my knees to my chest, I try to focus on my breathing as tears stream down my face, reminding myself that she’s wrong. What Jake and I have is real. This is forever. We’re meant to be.
Every part of me believes it, except for this tiny kernel lodged in the back of my mind. The one that grew slightly bigger after talking to her, and now has a very small part of me questioning whether there could be any truth to what she’s saying.