It took me a moment to realize he was on the phone.
“No, Sabine. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you. She doesn’t want to see you!” I heard him curse and throw his cell phone on something soft. Probably the couch.
My mouth was open in shock, and Tim’s was, too. I hurried into the family room. “Dad?”
My father jumped out of his skin. “Natalie. You’re home.”
“I am. Who was that on the phone, Dad?” I tried to sound calm. It helped that Tim was right beside me.
“It was just a scammer. Those are the only calls I get,” he said, and his lie would have convinced me had I not heard him say my aunt’s name.
I had a sinking feeling in my stomach. How many other times had he lied to me?
“Sir, with all due respect, we heard you say Sabine’s name,” Tim said. There was no hiding the anger in his voice.
Dad looked at him for a long moment before his eyes dropped to mine. “Sabine called.”
I stared at him. “Yeah, Dad, I got that much. Could you please tell me what’s going on? Because I heard you say that I didn’t want to see her. It sounded as if it wasn’t the first time you’ve had that conversation with her.”
He looked down and put his hands in his pockets. “I’m… not proud of this. But I might have kept the two of you from seeing each other.”
I couldn’t speak. I was too upset, too horrified by what he’d done. It was only Tim’s hand on my shoulder that gave me the support to keep asking questions. “Why?”
He sighed, sat down, and buried his head in his hands. “There’s more than one reason.”
“I’m going to need more than that, Dad,” I finally said when it seemed as if he wasn’t going to say anything else.
“Right. Um, well… after your mom—you know.” His eyes shot to mine. He’d never once been able to say the words dead, died, passed away, or any other euphemism for death in relation to Mom. It was like he thought not saying them out loud could possibly bring her back to us.
“Yes. I know. After the accident what happened between you and Sabine?”
That’s when he started crying.
“I couldn’t look at her,” he gasped out, tears streaming down his face.
I covered my mouth with my hand, trying to choke back sobs myself.
“I just couldn’t. Every time I saw her, it was like your mom had come back to us.” He paused, his body shuddering with the power of his sobs. It was the first time I’d seen him cry since Mom died, and it was breaking my heart—even if he had done something awful. “And then, as you got older, I thought if yousaw her you’d leave me. You’d want to be with her because she’s kind and wonderful and just like your mother. And I’m… not a good dad. Without your mom, I’m just a shell. I,” he gasped out, “I feel like I died that day, too.”
Even Tim had tears in his eyes now.
“So, you told her I didn’t want to see her. And you told me she didn’t want to see me.”
He nodded, looking miserable. “I know it was wrong. I know it’s awful. I’m sorry. I don’t expect your forgiveness, I really don’t. If I were you, I wouldn’t forgive me.” His eyes met mine again. His were almost swollen shut, and it was hard to understand what he was saying because he was crying so hard.
“What can I do, Natalie? What can I do to make it right?”
Part of me couldn’t help but want to say ‘nothing,’ but I could never be so heartless. “Let me go to her, Dad. Let me go stay with Sabine.”
He nodded. “That’s what she wants. She’s been driving me crazy, calling almost every day. She wants you to come to France for a gap year. She says…” his broken sobs got louder for a moment, “that I owe it to your mother. She’s right. You need to see where your mom grew up. You need to get to know Sabine. The four people your mom loved most in the world were you, Sabine, Lynne, and me. In that order.” His eyes shot up to Tim’s. “You were next in line, son. She loved you something fierce, too.”
I felt Tim’s tears land on my cheek. He had hugged me into his side, and we were supporting each other while we stood there, staring helplessly at my broken father. “I loved her, too,” Tim managed to whisper. “So much. She was like another mom to me.”
“I want to go,” I said. “I want to go to France.”
Dad nodded. He wiped at his face, even though the tears were still coming. Tim went to get him some tissue. “I’ll call Emory. I’ll handle trying to get your scholarship delayed. Youshould go to France.” It sounded like it killed him to admit it. But he did it. “I owe her that much.”
I didn’t know if he was talking about Mom, Sabine, or maybe even me. But it didn’t matter. He owed all three of us that much.
