29. CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Joss
C offee was a good idea. The hot cup in my hands warms me from the outside as each sip of hot creamy liquid works its magic from the inside. I shouldn’t have been surprised to see both milk and sugar nestled amongst Wes’s things in the kitchen, even though he doesn’t use them. I swear his thoughtfulness knows no bounds. He didn’t lie either about touching me as often as possible. Even though my parents’ view of the kitchen was limited, he still had a hand on me at all times in some way or another.
Now we’re sitting in the chair across from my parents, Wes having pulled me down into his lap unapologetically. I don’t know if it’s just because he wants the excuse to touch me or if it’s for moral support, but either way, I’m not complaining .
The awkward silence stretches between us, and I can’t take it any longer. I know there’s more to this visit, and I’m ready to have it all out in the open.
“Mom, why are you really here? It’s been seven years. Why now?”
She glances at her hands, then to my dad.
“Seven years?” Confusion distorts his features, and his eyes bounce between us.
“Andrea, why didn’t you tell me?”
Of course she didn’t. Well, I think it’s high time he understood just what he left me to deal with when he hightailed out of his marriage. Out of our family. Out of my life.
“I’m not surprised.” I rub at my temples, resigned to the direction this conversation is going. I ignore my mom, her eyes pleading with me not to continue. I stopped caring about what she wanted a long time ago. I want to see the look on my dad’s face when he finally sees the fruit of his actions. “After you left, Mom moved us around a lot. From place to place, man to man. To whoever would take us, since you weren’t there to provide for her lifestyle anymore.”
The color drains from his face with every word I say, a twisted look of agony wrecking it until he finally moves his eyes to my mother.
“Each guy was worse than the last. I don’t know if that trajectory has continued over the last seven years though. We haven’t so much as spoken since her last visit to Sydney.” I finally look at my mom. Her face is beet red and tinged with anger. This interaction is not going the way she’d intended, but she seems incapable of speaking. “The one where she and the man she brought with her pilfered my home and stole everything they could get their hands on. ”
Aside from my heart pounding in my ears, there’s not a sound in the room. I never understood the phrase “the silence was deafening” until this moment. The quiet is full of swirling emotions: anger, betrayal, hurt, shock. I’m sitting in the eye of a tornado, knowing everything will implode the second the storm shifts.
“Andrea. Tell me this isn’t true? Tell me you didn’t steal from your own daughter? From our daughter.” His voice is calm but his face is ghostly pale, like he might be sick. I can’t blame him. When I walked into my apartment that day, I barely made it to the toilet before I lost the contents of my stomach. Oddly reminiscent of today, actually.
“You—you don’t understand. He wasn’t a good man, Joss,” she pleads, and the glistening in her eyes indicates real emotion, but I’ve seen her crocodile tears more than enough times to remember what a good actress she can be. “I didn’t know who he really was until it was too late. I didn’t know he was going to do that, but I couldn’t stop him either. You have to believe me.”
No matter what excuses she comes up with, it will never be enough. Not after all this time.
“You know, Mom, this would have been a good conversation to have seven years ago. A call, an apology, an explanation… It would have gone a long way. But now, it feels like too little too late.”
“You don’t mean that. I’m your mother. It’s never too late.” She swipes at her face. A face that looks so much older, yet very much the same. A face I’ve let myself forget for so long. A face that should have brought me comfort but never did.
“Being my mother doesn’t mean that I owe you my peace or my happiness. ”
I lean into Wes, the only person I’ve felt those things with in a long time, and he presses a soft kiss to my shoulder. He’s been a silent support until now, but I feel him shift behind me and I can sense he’s about to become a more active participant. I turn my head, anticipation coursing through me when I catch the expression on his face. His eyes are full of fire as he watches my parents, his lips a hard line.
“Andrea. Brian. Joss asked you a question when you arrived, and I haven’t heard an answer. What is it that you’re here for?” His grip tightens on me as he continues. “You should be able to understand her wariness after your last visit, Andrea. And Brian, you may be her father, but she doesn’t know you anymore, and you don’t know her either. She deserves some answers. Otherwise, you can see yourselves out.”
Hot damn. This man and his ability to control a situation. It’s just like when he talked to my mom on the phone and put her right in her place. I lean in and press a kiss to the underside of his stubbled jaw—a silent thank-you passing between us. Both my parents look completely stunned to be spoken to this way, and I wonder who will crack first under his steely gaze.
Mom’s eyes lock on her lap, where she’s fiddling with the hem of her jumper, much like I do when I’m anxious. I hate that even my nervous tics come from her.
“Joss, honey, I understand you being angry about what happened with Bill. I am sorry for how everything transpired and that I was never brave enough to try to fix it,” she says, addressing her hands. “Your dad and I want to try to make everything right between us. We’ve all made mistakes, but we’re hoping there’s a way forward.”
I have to hold back a retort questioning what mistakes I’ve made, but I need to let them finish. And if I’m honest, that’s more of an apology than I ever expected from her. With the way my dad bristles at her words though, I don’t think he likes her talking for him—not now that he knows everything.
“I owe you an apology too, Joss.” The halo of silver tears reappears in his eyes as he keeps them locked on mine, and I couldn’t look away if I tried. “I should have never left the way I did. I should have kept in touch. I should have explained myself. I should have done a lot of things.” He lifts a hand to rub at the back of his neck, anguish and shame on his face. “But I did love you. I do love you. I always wanted to do right by you. That’s why I’m here.”
He clears his throat, looking uncomfortable. “Even after I left, I wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of. I continued to contribute to your trust—”
“My what?” My voice is loud and sharp, shock slipping through all my armor, rocking me to my core. What is he talking about? That shift in the storm I was waiting for… This is it. Wes must feel it too. His hands slide up my back, bringing me a small modicum of calm.
My dad looks uncertain, like this is something I should know. He glances at my mom, who refuses to look at him.
“Your trust,” he pushes. “I started it when you were born, and I never stopped adding to it. I always wanted to take care of you, no matter the terrible decisions I made. Your thirtieth birthday is coming up, which means the trust will turn over to you. ”
“And what, your stipulation is that we have some kind of relationship for me to get it?”
He jerks his head back like I struck him. “No, I…” He trails off, horror in his eyes, body tense. Every emotion that rolls off him rings true to me, but I don’t know if I can trust my instincts where he’s concerned. “No, I’m not trying to force your hand here. I just wanted to talk to you about it in person. I reached out to your mom to get your contact details. I didn’t expect that she’d want to talk to me, but I was hopeful you would be open to it. She was the one who suggested we come to see you together. But the trust is yours on your birthday, regardless of whether you want a relationship with me.”
“So… what does that mean exactly?” I furrow my brow, trying to come to terms with what he’s saying.
“Well, it’s very simple. There are no stipulations for you to access the trust fund; there’s just some paperwork we need to fill out and then it’s yours.”
There must be a catch, strings he isn’t telling me about. This man who abandoned me can’t possibly be offering me a pile of cash. “And if I don’t want it?”
My dad seems surprised and my mom looks absolutely horrified that I’d even consider not taking it. I can understand their reactions. I mean, who wouldn’t want a lump of cash? But I don’t want to be attached to them by money or anything else if I decide a relationship isn’t in the cards.
“It will still be there if you ever change your mind. Legally, it’s yours. I can’t keep it from you, and I wouldn’t want to.” He leans forward, eyes locked on me. “Look, Joss, I understand why you’re hesitant to trust me, and it sounds like you have things you need to work through with your mom as well.” He shoots her a look that says he’s not happy about being left out of the loop. “But this isn’t about us; this is about you receiving what’s rightfully yours.
“I wish I could erase all the hurt I’ve caused you, and I wish things were different, but I can’t make that true.” His breathing is a little shaky and there’s sorrow and remorse heavy in his features. “I would love the opportunity to fix things, the opportunity to be in your life, but I understand if that’s not something that you have any interest in—”
My mom places a hand on his knee. “Brian, I’m sure—”
“No, Andrea.” He stands and crosses the room. “I don’t want to put any pressure on her. If she’s not interested in a relationship with me, then that’s her decision.”
I take them both in. She watches him with dollar signs in her eyes—it’s a look I know well—but he watches me. I wonder how much of her desire for this little trip is to get her hands on either him or a piece of my trust. I wish that wasn’t where my mind goes with her, but she’s made it that way. I can’t trust that she’ll ever want me for me.
“I think I need some time to process this. How long are you in town?” I ask, directing the question to my dad.
“Until Tuesday. Maybe we could all go out for dinner? After you’ve had some time to think.”
I watch him, feeling more and more like he might actually have good intentions here. As for my mom, the jury is still out.
“Yeah, okay. I’ll let you know.”
“Okay. Can I give you my number? That way if you have any other questions, you can reach out.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls a business card from his wallet. “We have rooms downtown—not far from here—if you need anything.”
“Yeah, that would be good.” I nod my head, still reeling from all of this. When we stand from the chair, Wes reaches forward and takes the card, nodding to my dad. My mom looks uncomfortable, unsure of what to do next. Standing, she fiddles with her hands, looking down at her shoes.
“Joss…” I can tell she wants to say more, convince me to forgive her or maybe to let her stay here—I don’t know.
But my dad cuts her off a final time as he walks to the door. “Come on, Andrea, let’s leave her be. You’ll call or text me and let me know about dinner?”
“Yeah. I will.”
My dad reaches out a hand to Wes and says, “I’m glad she has someone like you in her corner. She deserves someone who loves her like you do.”
Love . That seems a bit extreme. He’s only seen us together for, what? An hour, tops?
Wes clasps his hand, cranking up the fake boyfriend charm and responding with a “Yes, she does.”
My dad nods and then turns to my mom, motioning to the door he just swung open. She walks out without another glance, but Dad’s sad eyes linger on mine as he walks out after her.