Chapter 20
twenty
I waited near the fountain in the park, my fingers curled tightly around the straps of my backpack.
The water splashed in lazy arcs behind me, the only sound since the place was pretty much abandoned with it being so cold out.
My toes were freezing, and my hands were numb, but worse than that was the gnawing anxiety.
Lately, Dad had always been the one to decide where and when we met, so it had felt weird to pretty much cold call him and ask if he could meet me after school on a random Tuesday.
It was obvious he’d been surprised as well and he’d told me he couldn’t meet until after work, so here I sat waiting for him, like I usually did.
It was ten minutes past the time we agreed to meet when I saw him walk into the park in my direction.
He was walking stiffly and keeping his head down, as if he thought it was suspicious to be anywhere around here, even before he met up with me.
I picked up my bag and walked over to meet him halfway.
“Hey, kiddo,” he said as I came up. He started to raise his arm like he was going to hug me but then he looked around nervously, so I decided to hang back. No hug would be better than an awkward one that he was clearly uncomfortable during. “How’s it going?”
“Hi,” I said, forcing my voice to stay even, though my stomach knotted and my throat was dry. I hated how small I felt standing here, trying to convince him of something so simple and yet so complicated.
He took a slow step toward me, eyes flicking briefly to my hands clutching the backpack. “You wanted to see me?”
I swallowed hard, my voice sticking in my throat.
“Yeah… it’s… about something important.” My words came out rushed, jagged, each one a tiny battle against my nerves.
“It’s our birthday this weekend,” I finally managed, feeling the weight of my words before they even left me.
“Ainsley and I… we… were hoping you might come to our birthday party.”
His expression shifted, just slightly, a flicker of something that might have been surprise, caution, or concern. “Imogen…” His voice trailed off. I hated that I knew what he meant without him having to finish.
“I know it’s complicated,” I said quickly, stepping a fraction closer. “I know you haven’t seen Mum or the others in months. I know it’s awkward. But it’s our birthday. We just… we want you there. Just for a little while.”
His brows furrowed as he studied me. “We? You’ve talked about this with Ainsley?”
“In a way,” I said slowly, avoiding eye contact. “I mean, she doesn’t know I’m inviting you, but she would be okay if you showed up on your own! So she doesn’t need to know why it happened.”
He ran a hand through his hair, pacing a small circle beside the fountain. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“You don’t have to come for the whole time!” I said in a rush. “I mean, it’s going to be a few hours and I’m sure you’d get bored if you were there the whole time, but maybe you could just stop in. Come for the part where there’s cake.”
I cracked a smile, hoping he would smile back. He loved birthday cake, and every year, he was the one to insist that Ainsley and I each get our own cake instead of one to share. But he still didn’t look at me and he definitely didn’t smile.
“I haven’t… I don’t know how to even start after all this time. Your mom… she doesn’t want me anywhere near the house. And your siblings… they’d never forgive me, not easily. I—” He stopped abruptly, frustration tightening his jaw, hands curling into fists at his sides.
“I promise we won’t make it worse,” I said, my voice trembling despite my efforts to be steady. “We’ll be careful. We’ll be… good. Please, Dad. Just this once. For us.”
He finally looked at me, really looked, and I saw the man I remembered—the one who loved me fiercely, tangled up with the man who had made mistakes and was still carrying the weight of every consequence. His jaw flexed, and he gave a slow, heavy exhale.
“I don’t know,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I haven’t… I haven’t seen any of them. Not since…” He shook his head, trailing off again.
I stepped closer, careful to keep my tone soft but urgent. “I know it’s messy. I know it’s complicated. We just… we just want to see you. For a few hours.” I bit the inside of my cheek, heart hammering. “Please. That’s all we’re asking.”
He studied me, silence stretching between us, filled only by the fountain’s constant splash.
I felt exposed, standing there, wishing the plaza would swallow me whole.
Then, slowly, he nodded. Tentatively. “Okay,” he said, voice low and unsure.
“I’ll come. But I don’t… I don’t know how it’ll go. I can’t promise it’ll be easy.”
“Yes!” I whispered, relief flooding through me. I wanted to throw my arms around him, but instead I just stood there, letting the promise sink in, letting the fragile hope bloom in my chest.
He nodded again, more firmly this time, and I felt the tension in his shoulders ease ever so slightly.
The fountain gurgled between us, the wind tugged at my hair, but none of it mattered.
I felt warmth spreading through my chest—the fragile, tentative kind that comes from promises made in the quiet spaces of the world, the kind that might shatter tomorrow but for now, just for now, felt real.
“Thank you,” I whispered finally, voice barely audible over the fountain.
He nodded, brushing his hand lightly against mine as he straightened. “Don’t thank me yet,” he murmured. “You might regret it.”
I laughed softly, a shaky sound, and he allowed himself a small, genuine smile.
I stayed to talk with him for a few more minutes, happy to spend the time together now that we couldn’t last Friday since he’d had to work, but we couldn’t stay long since he told me that he and Hilary had dinner reservations.
I floated the whole walk home, not even the mention of Hilary being able to ruin my mood.
It was ridiculous—my toes were still numb, my backpack still heavy, the sky already slipping into that gray-blue that meant it was going to be a long, cold night—but none of it touched me.
My steps felt lighter, like the pavement wasn’t quite solid beneath my feet. Dad was coming. He’d said yes.
I let myself imagine it: Dad singing “Happy Birthday” loudly and off-key to us like he always did, me and Ainsley smiling as we blew out our candles, Mum clapping wildly and wiping away the annual tear that her babies were just another year older.
It would be just like it always had been.
Well, mostly. He and Mum would finally have to see each other again, to confront all the issues they’d been avoiding for the past few months.
And once they did, they would realize how perfect they were for each other and that they wanted to give their marriage a fair shot.
By the time I pushed open the front door, my cheeks hurt from smiling.
Warm air rushed over me as I kicked off my boots and dropped my coat on the banister of the stairs, then went running upstairs with my bag hanging off my arm.
It was too quiet for Ainsley to be home, but I heard voices so I assumed Lavender was home, and maybe Mum too.
Mum’s bedroom door was open, and I stopped short in the doorway.
She stood in front of the mirror, wearing a deep green dress I hadn’t seen in years—the one she only ever wore when she wanted to feel nice, and her dark hair was curled. Lavender was behind her, fastening up a delicate necklace for Mum, but they both looked my way and smiled as I poked my head in.
My smile faltered, confusion sliding in. “What’s… going on?”
Mum glanced at me in the mirror and smiled. “Hey, sweetheart. You’re back early. I thought you said you’d be out late working on your English project.”
“Oh. Yeah.” I shifted my weight, the glow from earlier dimming just a little.
I’d told Mum I would be out late, just in case Dad decided that he wanted to get dinner or something with me tonight.
That was something we’d done in the early days of me coming to see him, but the routine had faded out over the last few months.
We hadn’t done anything when he gave me the tablet last week, but I thought maybe this time would be different.
Obviously, I was wrong. “I finished sooner than I thought.”
“She’s lying,” Lavender said, fingers still working at the clasp. My heart stopped, sure that she was about to tell Mum that I’d seen Dad. But then Lavender grinned my way. “She raced home because she missed us.”
“Well, I certainly hope you kids have a fun siblings’ night together,” Mum said. She made eye contact with me in the mirror. “Sebastian’s picking up Ainsley from dance and they’re stopping to get you four some dinner.”
I leaned against the wall, taking in her outfit and her use of you four. “Are you going out?”
“As a matter of fact, I have a date tonight.”
The words felt like a punch to the gut. I didn’t realize until that moment that I’d been half-heartedly hoping that she was dressing up to go out with friends or for some work party.
“Oh,” I said, the sound coming out thinner than I meant it to. “A date.”
Mum nodded, smoothing the fabric at her waist once Lavender stepped back. “Nothing fancy. Just dinner.” She studied her reflection, then glanced at me again. “What do you think? Is this too much?”
“No,” I murmured. “You look… really nice.”
And she did. Happy, even—nervous in that fluttery way that came with new beginnings. I should’ve felt glad for her. But Mum couldn’t move on, not now, when I was finally so close to fixing everything.
Lavender tilted her head, examining her handiwork. “You look amazing,” she declared. “Way better than whoever this guy is deserves.”
Mum rolled her eyes, smiling. “Be nice.”
“I am being nice.”
I hovered there, hands tucked into the sleeves of my jacket, the words I’d been carrying all the way home pressing hard against my ribs.
Mum must have noticed something shift, because her smile softened. “Everything okay?”