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“Can I ask you something?”
He nodded. “Sure.”
I took another bite of my apple and swallowed before asking, “Why did you sleep with me graduation night?”
“Because I was really drunk.”
“Gee. Thanks.”
He chuckled, scratching his head for a moment. “I told you I was waiting for someone special, someone I really liked, right? Well, believe it or not, you’re incredibly charming when you’re drunk.”
“Only on tequila,” I said. “I learned the other night that vodka makes me a little bit of a bitch.”
“Well, you were charming that night,” he said. “You were friendly and fu
I blushed.
“Then, when we were talking about that Van Morrison song and you told me all the songs about blue eyes… I don’t know.” He looked at me, our eyes meeting as he spoke. “I loved that you knew the old songs and that, even hammered, you could put me in my place. A lot of girls act ditzy when they’re drunk, and I guess some guys think that’s cute, but I don’t. And you weren’t like that—you seemed… real. We laughed a lot that night. And when you led me back to the bedroom and I knew what you wanted to do, I just remember thinking, If this girl isn’t perfect for me, no one is. So, I guess the short answer is, I liked you. A lot.”
We were still staring at each other, his brown eyes steady on mine. Suddenly, I was aware of just how close we were sitting. Our arms were almost brushing. My knee was just inches from his. I opened my mouth to say something—I had no idea what.
“Hey, kids.”
I jumped and turned to look as Dad walked through the dining room. When I glanced at Nathan, I thought I saw him blushing a little. But he was back to work on his laptop, as if we hadn’t been talking at all.
“Hi, Dad,” I said.
“How are you this afternoon, munchkin?” he asked as he headed through the kitchen archway.
“I’m… okay. I guess.” I stood up and followed him, leaving Nathan at the dining room table.
Dad moved to the counter and started sorting through a stack of mail piled there. I watched him for a moment. I hadn’t seen him in days, since before he’d ditched me for Nathan and Trace had told me the truth about the divorce. It felt a little like looking at a different person. Not only had Dad changed since getting engaged to Sylvia, but he hadn’t even been the man I thought he was to begin with.
He was the one responsible for our family falling apart. He’d cheated on Mom. He hadn’t wanted to be with us anymore.
But he was still my dad… right? He was still the man who’d taught me how to play poker with pe
“What’s up, munchkin?” he asked.
I realized I’d been standing behind him, just staring, for too long. “I, um… I was wondering if I’m grounded?”
“No,” he said. “I don’t think so.”
“Oh,” I said. “Well, Sylvia didn’t tell me either way, so I thought I’d ask.”
“Right,” he said, still flipping through the mail, not even glancing my way. “I think we can let it slide this time.” He picked up an envelope and tucked it under his arm. “I’m off to get some work done. Have a phone call with the station manager in half an hour. He wants me to pitch in the network softball game against 97.5—that Top 40 radio network. Might be fun. Anyway.” He turned and kissed me on the top of my head. “See you at di
He walked out of the kitchen, clapping Nathan on the shoulder as he passed through the dining room.
“Hey, Greg.”
“Working hard, Nate?”
“Of course not.”
Dad laughed. “Oh, to be eighteen again.”
I stood in the kitchen for a long moment after he’d gone. I’d been waiting for him to come upstairs, waiting for him to talk to me about those pictures. Sylvia had, but Dad had just ignored them.
All summer I’d thought Dad’s distance from me was a new thing, but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe I’d just been making excuses for him. For why he never called, why he could only see me once a year.
Trace said Dad hadn’t reconciled the marriage because he wanted to be single, because he didn’t want a family. I remembered being fourteen, begging him to let me live with him. Mom was always either yelling or sleeping, and I didn’t have friends. I was miserable and I needed him. It dawned on me just then that he hadn’t said no because he cared for Mom. He’d said no because he didn’t want me.
A few minutes later, when I was back in the guest room, I pulled out the bottle of Margaritaville. I stared at it for a long moment, thinking of finishing off the last little bit. It would be nice to get buzzed right now. It would make me laugh and smile. Like Nathan said, I was fun when I was drunk.
I thought of Bailey, of how I hadn’t protected her. I thought of Nathan’s hand reaching across the table at the diner, his fingers covering mine. I cared about Bailey and Nathan cared about me. This wouldn’t make things with Dad any better. This wouldn’t make me forget. It would just hurt them. And I didn’t want to hurt them. Not more than I already had.
I carried the bottle into the bathroom, checking to make sure the hallway was clear first. I poured out the last few drops of tequila, watching as the only thing that had made me happy over the past few years trickled down the drain. Going, going… gone.
21
I didn’t leave the house at all over the next week. I spent most of my time locked in the guest room or watching Bailey practice her cheers. Occasionally, Harrison would come over and hang out, but we never went to the Nest or to parties or anything after the Fourth of July.
But that didn’t stop people from posting on the Facebook page.
Nathan usually wouldn’t let me look on his computer, but sometimes I’d sneak into his room when he had run downstairs. He had a bad habit of leaving his computer on, and he was always logged on to Facebook.
Pictures from Harrison’s party; speculations of what I’d do next; insults about my clothes, my hair, the size of my ass. Everything. And Dad was tagged in so much of it. Tagged one day, untagged the next. And still not a word to me. Not that I expected it anymore.
Every time I saw him in the house, every time he asked me to pass the rolls at di
He must have been counting down the days until I left, until it could just be him and his perfect family and he could go back to pretending I didn’t exist.
As angry as I was, part of me didn’t blame him.
I stood in the living room and watched them through the screen door. Sherri was visiting for the afternoon. She and Sylvia sat in lawn chairs, drinking lemonade while Dad and Nathan played one-on-one basketball in the driveway. Bailey was doing back handsprings in the grass, as if she were a cheerleader at a big game.
Sherri and Sylvia clapped and laughed as Nathan threw the ball into the hoop above the garage, sinking it perfectly. Dad’s lips were moving quickly, clearly arguing that, somehow, that shot hadn’t been fair.
I felt like I was watching a home movie. A good one. It was like you could see the joy and the love. They were palpable.
Nathan saw me standing in the doorway. He raised a hand and waved, gesturing for me to join them.
But I shook my head.
I ran upstairs before anyone else could turn around and see me.