My knee bounces beneath the table, hands fiddling with my napkin as I try to center myself and take in my surroundings. I’m tucked away in a booth toward the back of the restaurant. It was the only table that would provide a modicum of privacy for us.
I rarely have the opportunity to dress up, and other than that double date with Jaz, I never go out to fancy dinners. So now, especially with what I’m about to do, I’m feeling more than a little uncomfortable in my skin as I shift in my seat.
What if he doesn’t show up? What if he decided I wasn’t worth the trouble and went home? I’m on the verge of getting up and walking away when I hear a voice behind me.
“Joss.” It’s just my name, but the fact that he’s really here calms me enough to face him.
“Hi, Brian.” My voice feels foreign, wavering over the name. Just like my resolve never to call him Dad again. Because in the light of today, with just the two of us here, I almost want to. I stand and take him in as he approaches the table. I was so focused on keeping my control yesterday that I never took the time to look at him closely. He’s still so tall, just like when I was a kid. I haven’t grown much since then, and I wish I could have gotten some of his height.
His navy suit is expensive-looking—exquisitely tailored and pressed to perfection. I never was very good at ironing; it’s the bane of my existence as a flight attendant. The slate grey tie matches his eyes. Eyes that are just like mine. I’d forgotten how alike we are in the nearly sixteen years it’s been since I last saw him.
His hair that became so disheveled yesterday as he ran his hands through it is styled neatly today. The same brown as mine but with grey streaked throughout, yet it only seems to make him look more distinguished. I can see a few women around the restaurant sending him appraising looks. He looks younger than he is. He has a wary smile on his face, like he’s nervous about this dinner too. It’s enough to make me drop my shoulders from my ears.
“Can I give you a hug?” he asks with tentative softness.
My throat closes up for a second, and I can see the same uncertainty mirrored on his face.
“Yes, I’d like that,” I say, realizing the words are true.
Since he left the apartment yesterday, I’ve had more than enough time to think about everything that unfolded. There are questions I need answers to, and he’s the only person who can give them to me.
He opens his arms, hope sparkling in his eyes. I walk into them, allowing his scent to surround me. It’s the same as it was when I was a kid, and it’s like a hit to my senses. I haven’t been in these arms in sixteen years. I haven’t smelled his woodsy smell insixteen years.
My eyes fill with tears, and I have to pull away to keep a sob from ripping through me. It’s getting harder and harder to keep my walls up. Like they’re more permeable, breakable, now that I know what I need. They used to be fortress-like. Nothing and no one could get past them. But I’m determined to start fresh, and what better place to give it some practice than here and now. I step back and swipe under my eyes, careful not to disturb the makeup I spent twenty painstaking minutes on earlier.
We slide into the booth across from each other, and I inhale a few times to calm my system, grabbing the water in front of me and drinking half of it down. He looks just as out of sorts as I do.
“I’m really glad you called. Yesterday didn’t go quite like I planned. Seeing you grown…” He swallows hard, the words catching in his throat. “Well, I wasn’t prepared for how hard that would hit me. I don’t think I adequately expressed just how sorry I am about everything that’s happened.”
“Well, if I’m being honest…” I sigh and look him in the eye. “You showing up on my doorstep was not something I was prepared for either.”
“I am sorry for that too. Your mom was so sure you’d be okay with us showing up early. I should have made her call.”
“No.” I shake my head, knowing he’s misunderstood my meaning. “I mean, yes, that was unexpected, but I’m talking aboutyoubeing there.”
He looks confused, his eyebrows pulling together.
“What do you mean? Your mother didn’t tell you I was coming?”
A weak laugh escapes me as I shake my head.
“She told me she was coming and that she had someone with her. I assumed it would be yet another one of her horrible boyfriends. Seeing you in the hallway…” I have to stop, blowing out the breath that feels caught in my lungs. “It was like seeing a ghost.”
His eyes go wide with horror. “God, Joss, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. No wonder you reacted the way you did.” He scrubs at his face, looking genuinely distraught. “Why would she do that?”
“I stopped trying to figure out why she does the things she does a long time ago. There’s a reason I asked you to meet me here without her. I needed to get a feeling for this situation without her attempting to pull the strings.”
“You said you haven’t seen or talked to her in seven years. She stole from you?” The question in his voice is almost pleading, like he’s hoping that was a joke and I’ll have a new story this time around.
“She did. I don’t know what to make of her story about Bill, whether any of that’s true. My only interaction with him was during that visit.” I didn’t plan to go into all the details, but he’s here, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get another chance to explain it to him. So I do, and he listens patiently while I tell him about that horrible time, never once interrupting.
“Jesus, Joss. I’m so sorry. I-I never would have brought her to your door if I’d known.” He shakes his head and looks indignant, frustrated. “I was struggling to find you on my own, and she waseasier to track down. She seemed so excited to come visit you. She never once mentioned that it had been years since you spoke.”
“You’re not responsible for her actions.”
“Aren’t I, though?” I feel the anger, even though I know it’s all directed at himself. “I left, and it drove her to become whatever she’s become.”
“I think she thought if she could just find a new husband, we would be okay. But she was a mess, and she’s never been a good judge of character. The men we ended up living with…” I shudder as I think about how terrible some of them were—Tom in particular. I catch the look of concern on Dad’s face, but I continue. “I left the day I graduated high school and never looked back. But we kept in touch, at least somewhat. Until Bill.”
