Chapter 17 The Inaugural Book Club and Other Disasters #3
Bianca finally turned to him. “I didn’t create Peggy’s dad based on you.”
“Maybe you didn’t intentionally—”
“You do realize that all of us are constructs of our upbringing, right? The issues we have, they come from our first interactions with the world, how our parents choose to raise us. Peggy had father issues because everyone has parental issues.” Attitude dripped from her tone, reminded him of Faith.
“I’ve been studying this stuff for a decade.
This rule is without exception. Yes, you worked too much, but I didn’t write the book about you, and I’m sorry you think that. ”
George half believed her. They both stared out into the night, quietly. The sounds of the city rose up around them.
“Dad, you don’t stop, and that’s the problem you’re having with retirement.
You’re a racehorse that’s suddenly been put out to pasture.
Any good psychotherapist would tell you that doing nothing is exactly what you need to be doing.
But I’m not going to psychoanalyze my own father.
And you’re not going to change. We both know that. ”
He didn’t argue.
“More to the point, you don’t have to read my book. I never asked you to. But you definitely led me to believe you did.”
“I never said that I—”
“Do you want to call your lawyers in? I’m not going to argue over semantics. You indicated that you loved it, that you’d read it, that you’d shared copies, telling everyone how much you liked Peggy Meh.”
“I do. I love the idea of her. And I did share copies. Bought fifty of them and gave them to everybody. I talk about you to everybody I meet.” He felt a drop of rain and stuck out his hand to confirm. A few light drops landed. “We should go inside.”
Ignoring him, she said, “But you didn’t read it.
And maybe that’s not why I’m mad. It’s not the only reason, that’s for sure.
It’s not working, Dad. I thought we could have a good time, but two adults under this roof is too much.
I love you and want to be there for you, but I have my own battles right now.
You’re not the only one who’s depressed.
I just . . . I hate to say it, but maybe you should go home, find a hotel till they’re done with the construction on your place.
God knows you don’t like it here. And I think you should find someone to talk to. ”
She turned to him. “I love you so much, and I don’t want you to think that I’m kicking you out. It’s not that. It’s that we’re both a mess right now. Why don’t we try again in a few months? I don’t have anything left for you or anyone else right now. I’m not okay.” A tear escaped her eyes.
“Oh, honey.” Her pain squeezed down hard on his heart. He wanted to hug her, but he didn’t think she wanted that. “You’re right. I’ll book a ticket home. I didn’t mean to bring my mess here.”
She wiped her eyes. “It’s not that. It has nothing to do with you.”
Actually, she’d admitted a moment ago that all issues had seeds in maternal and paternal issues, so it did have to do with him. It certainly wasn’t her mother; Faith had given her all to Bianca from day one.
He wasn’t going to argue, though.
Trying to keep his chest from caving in and focusing on what mattered, he said, “What can I do for you? I mean, other than get out of your hair. Let’s go inside; the rain’s picking up.”
“I’ll be in shortly.” Her voice cracked.
After a long minute of silence, he said, “How about a glass of wine? Let’s start there.
” He stood, kissed the top of her head, and went into the kitchen.
He felt dead inside, riddled with regret for coming here, for failing her for all those years, for ruining his marriage, for fucking up in a thousand ways.
A tear dripped out of his eye, and he felt the warmth of it as it trickled down his cheek.
At least he was still alive. That’s what a tear felt like, a reminder that he was still breathing.
You can do better, George, he told himself. Don’t let her see you break.
When he pulled open the cabinet to take out two glasses, he saw small brown pellets on the plastic sheets with which he’d lined the bottom of the cabinets a few days earlier.
Mouse droppings.
Like a soldier called to battle, he gritted his teeth and searched for the enemy. “You have to be kidding me.” Before lining the base of all the cabinets, he’d scrubbed every inch with disinfectant. What could they possibly have wanted in here?
Stomping back out to the balcony, he found Bianca still sitting out there in the rain. “B, you won’t believe it. You’ve got a mouse. I’ll go down to the store and grab a trap. Is it still open?”
She looked at him with exhausted eyes. “I don’t know.”
“I’ll find something one way or another. Can you believe it? Right after I cleaned every last inch. Mr. Nutz, and now this.”
A shrug. She apparently had no problem living in rodent filth. Or sitting in the rain.
“Okay, be back in a few. Get inside before you catch a cold.” Half of him realized he was leaving an important conversation, but it would have to wait. It would simply have to fucking wait.