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Henry McAllister is not the kind of man to admit when he’s done wrong.
I can’t remember another point in my life when he may have even toed the line of admitting he was wrong. It doesn’t happen. At least, not with me. He’s softer with my sister, but even then, I don’t know if he’s able to admit fault.
People talk around us, their voices creating a low drone as Dad puts a check on the table and slides it across the white tablecloth to me.
“You earned this, Brookes. I know it may seem like I’ve never been impressed with you, but I always have been. You’ve always been strong. Even after we lost your mother. I lost most of myself the day she died, but you pulled yourself up and you took care of your sister.”
I take the check and slide it into my pocket. “I shouldn’t have had to take care of Rachel. You worked longer hours to get away from us after Mom died. I had to do everything I could to take care of her, but she needed her dad. We both did.”
Dad runs a hand along his jaw. “You’re right, and I know you are. I loved your mother more than anything else on this earth. It was hard to look at you and Rachel after she died. You both look too much like her.”
“That isn’t our fault.”
The waiter comes by with a pitcher of mimosas and pours some. I down mine as soon as it’s full. The waiter’s mouth pinches together but he fills it again before filling Dad’s glass.
As soon as he walks away, Dad turns his attention to me. “I should have told you I was proud of you and all that you’ve done and accomplished. You worked hard and you raised your sister to be a wonderful young woman.”
“I appreciate that.” A lump rises in my throat, threatening to choke me. “But that doesn’t erase the years and years of problems we’ve had. It doesn’t erase the way you spoke about and to the woman I love.”
His frown deepens, and guilt flashes in his eyes. “I was out of line with what I said to her. One day, I would like to apologize to her in person. I did not know at the time that she means so much to you.”
“Because you thought it would be impossible for anyone to care about your fuckup son?”
His jaw drops before it snaps shut. “No. It’s because I didn’t think there was a woman out there who was going to be good enough for my son. I thought it was impossible that you would ever find a woman who was your equal.”
My head is spinning as the waiter comes back around. I browse the menu for a second before ordering chicken parmigiana and waffles that I’m not overly interested in.
I don’t even know if I can stomach food right now. This is all too much. I shouldn’t have agreed to meet him.
I don’t even know if I can believe everything he’s saying.
My dad is a master at bending emotions and drawing people into his stories. He makes people feel something for him, and then he sells whatever he’s trying to sell. I’ve seen it time and time again over the years.
But the broken little boy inside me wants to believe his father. He wants to see this as a step forward for us.
I choose to believe the broken little boy.
If nothing else, I need to repair the relationship for the sake of my sister. All she wants is for me and Dad to get along. I can do that much for her.
And if this act holds up over the years, then maybe I can start to believe that he really is changing.
“So.” Dad drags the word out as our food is put in front of us. “What’s your plan with the money?”
I cut the chicken and waffles into bite-sized pieces, wondering how much I should tell him. On one hand, I want him to be excited about the future with me, but on the other, I don’t think he will be.
Just take the giant leap of faith and hope that everything is going to work out in the end.
“I’m starting a rural ambulance service.”
Dad’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “I didn’t think you would be interested in something like rural medicine. It’s a lot to take on, and those are some of the most brutal injuries I’ve ever seen.”
“To be fair, you wouldn’t know that I’m interested in it because all you’ve ever done is try to turn me into a carbon copy of you.” My voice is monotone, no accusation. It’s a statement that’s not meant to cause yet another argument between us.
Dad nods and takes a few bites of his food. “You’re right about that. I know that it’s going to seem like just words right now, but I want to get better. I don’t want us to be strangers anymore. I’ve missed out on a lot of your life already.”
“We can work on it.” I take a big gulp of the mimosa. “I’m open to working on things between us, but I’m going to make it clear now—if working on our relationship becomes a detriment to me, then I’m going to stop.”
Dad’s sad smile feels like a knife plunging into my chest. “I can live with that. I do love you, Brookes. I haven’t said it enough.”
