“That’s my girl,” says Dad proudly. “No one treats my daughter like this.”
Once again with no forewarning, the waterworks return. I realize, with some embarrassment, how much I’ve been secretly craving this protection, how much I’ve wanted my father to stand up in my defense and act like… well, like a father. It’s humiliating, but after years of striving to be hyper-independent so that he could never hurt me again, I feel overcome by the small assistance.
“What did I say this time?” my father asks, rushing over to me.
“It’s nothing,” I say through hiccups. “Like I said, it’s been a long summer.”
When I’m done, we both sit on the floor, quiet together.
“I’ve missed out on your entire life,” my father says after a few moments. “You’re grown now.”
My cheeks feel waxy from the tears, and my limbs are still shaky. I wrap my arms around my legs, as if I can curl into myself and disappear.
“I’m not so sure about that,” I say, my mind flitting to Henry, Theo, the mess of this entire summer. “I still have some growing to do.”
My dad smiles. “Do you think you could forgive me? Not today, but someday?”
I think about it. It’s not enough. This one apology certainly isn’t enough to make up for a lifetime of his absences: the school dances, and soccer games, and art shows he’s missed. Rose has given me everything I need. She has single-handedly raised me from the ground up. I do not need my father, but maybe I can still afford to let him in a little.
It’s not enough. But it’s something. It’s a start. And maybe a start is better than nothing.
“Let’s try.” I return his smile.
“What are you doing the rest of today?” he asks eagerly. “I have to return to LA tomorrow for a meeting with my lawyers. I’ve already outstayed my welcome here. But do you have plans this morning?”
Today is my first shift back at work where my schedule will align with Theo’s again. We’ve barely seen each other in the week since our date. I’m worried he’s avoiding me.
We talked about heavy subjects, after all: loss and tragedy. I never would have guessed that behind his easygoing demeanor lived such a heavy weight. It certainly wasn’t the most romantic topic, so I wasn’t surprised when we didn’t kiss at the end of the night. We were friends first—this was our natural state.
Still, perhaps he regrets opening up. I was looking forward to seeing him at work and sussing out his feelings.
“No pressure,” my dad says now. “If you have plans, it’s okay. Of course.”
I know I should go to work, but then again, it would be nice to spend the day with my dad, getting to know each other again. Life is short; we know this now. That’s what Lottie used to say: “Life is too short, even when it’s long.”
So much can go wrong, you might as well savor the good moments while you can. You might as well accept the olive branch when it’s extended.
“No worries,” I tell my dad. “I’ll call out sick.”
A few hours later that afternoon, I pull up to the sandy parking lot of Cisco Brewers, driving over the deep ridges in the ground. The hood of my car points in the air nose first like the bow of a ship.
This afternoon, everyone with a morning shift from Great Harbor is expected to come to Cisco after work, the local brewery out near Bartlett’s Farm. After calling out sick to spend time with my father, I considered skipping, but I want to see Theo. Dad and I spent the morning together just walking around ’Sconset and catching up. I showed him the cliff walk where I took Thomas, and I filled him in on everything that has happened this summer.
“I think he’s still in love with her,” he said when we reached the end of the cliff. The long drop was only feet away, and the ocean expanded into what seemed like infinity.
“But what about the thing with Josie?”
“You’re not sure that what you saw was a date, correct?”
I shook my head no.
“Maybe it’s not as simple as it seems. But I’ll tell you this much, for as long as I’ve known your mother, she’s been in love with that man. Even when we were happy, I could tell she was thinking of someone else. I’d bet he feels the same.” At the next part, he grinned. “Rose is not the kind of woman you move on from. Take it from my experience.”
I wondered what he meant, since he was the one who cheated, but decided to drop it. It was nice to get along, and as I confided in him, I realized what a relief it was to talk to someone else about the situation. Because of his own mistakes, he was oddly easy to confide in, devoid of judgment.
“Do you think I’m a horrible person for getting involved?” I asked.
“I think you’re the best daughter a mother could ask for,” he said. I hated how much the praise meant to me.
