Chapter 22 #2
His lips quirked, more smirk than smile. “She’d known he was married when they were together. She admitted that to me later.” He shook his head. “I try not to dwell on what they were thinking when it started—him betraying his wife, her… I don’t know what she thought would come of it.”
“Perhaps she didn’t think that far ahead. Perhaps your father looked like you do now, and she thought he was handsome and charming. I can see being swept away by you. Perhaps she was swept away by him.”
Ethan shuddered. “Let’s not go any further down that road. I’d rather not know.”
“I see, yes.” She turned to sit facing him. “You were nine, and what happened?”
“We’d finished eating and were in the living room.
I’d just opened the present he bought for me.
Walkie-talkies, if I remember right. I was excited for my party that afternoon, and I asked him to stay.
That was back when I still called him Dad.
He said he couldn’t, that he had things to do, and my mother asked to talk to him in the other room.
You know how parents do—that tight-lipped, angry look they make when they’re pretending they’re fine?
” He pinched his own mouth in a look she’d never seen on his face.
She grinned, then slapped her hand over her mouth. “I am sorry. It isn’t amusing.”
He traced a finger down her cheek. “Never apologize for smiling at me. Nothing makes me happier than your smile.” His expression shifted.
“I was mad that he wouldn’t stay. I wanted my friends to meet him, you know?
He was a lot older than my mom, but he was tough and fit, and…
I wanted people to know I had a father, and he was kind of cool.
They went into the other room to fight. Even though they didn’t raise their voices or use mean words, I knew they were arguing.
“His wallet must’ve fallen out of his pocket because it was lying on the couch. I was curious about him, so I opened it, you know, like kids do.”
“Kids are curious.”
“There was a photo right in front, a little wallet-sized picture of a gorgeous, elegant woman with long blond hair and five girls. Three looked older than I was. One was little, four or five years old. And one was about my age. She looked like…like she could be my friend. Which…” He shook his head.
“They were kids, just like the ones at my school or the ones who’d be at my party.
And right in the middle of all of them was Gavin.
His arm was around the beautiful blonde. He was smiling at the camera.”
Mei Lin thought of the little boy her husband had been, and her heart cracked. “I’m sorry you found out that way.”
Again, he shrugged as though it didn’t matter.
“The weird thing is, I didn’t feel jealous or angry.
I just felt left out. My father had this big, beautiful family, and I wanted to be a part of it.
Not that… I mean, I was happy with my mother, but she worked all the time.
I went to a program after school until I was old enough to be home alone.
In the evenings, Mom was busy doing all the stuff she needed to do to keep our household going—cleaning, cooking, laundry.
She liked to get that done so we could do fun stuff on the weekends, but then the weekend would come, and she’d be exhausted from working so hard during the week.
I’m not complaining. She was there. It’s not like I was alone. ”
His face didn’t match his words. “You were though, yes?”
“She did her best, but…yeah.” He sighed.
“We ate dinner together, but she always said she’d used up all her words at work.
I did my homework alone, played video games alone, read books alone.
And then I saw this big family, and I figured they were always talking and laughing and playing and having fun.
Dumb as it sounds, I just wanted to be part of it. ”
Tears stung her eyes, and she leaned forward and took his hand. “That is…”
“It’s fine.”
It wasn’t, but perhaps Ethan didn’t want her pity. “Did you talk to him about it?”
“He came out and saw me with his wallet. His face was bright red, and I thought he was mad at me, though in retrospect, I think he was still angry from the fight he’d had with Mom.
I didn’t know how to process that photograph.
I only knew that I should have been part of a big family, but my father didn’t want me.
I felt…I mean, I couldn’t have articulated it at the time, but I felt betrayed.
So I threw his wallet at the brick fireplace and then ran like a baby. ”
“Not a baby. A nine-year-old who had his heart broken.”
He shrugged. “Either way.”
“And then what happened? Did he apologize to you? Or explain?”
“He came back to my room and told me he had to go. He said he’d see me soon, and I told him not to bother, that I didn’t need him.”
“Did he not come back after that?”