Paul looks beyond dejected when he leaves, and I snuggle up to Shallots in search of comfort.
“Your dad will be home soon, and we’ll help him through this.”
When I’m in bed for the night, I make another desperate attempt, and this time, Danny finally picks up.
Before I can say anything, I hear his voice. He sounds nothing like the person I know. “I’m too crushed, too damaged. You must know that. It’s why you and Paul have been blowing up my phone.”
“I know why you’re crushed. Of course. But you’renottoo damaged. It just feels that way right now.”
“I don’t know how to come home. Not after this. After what she said. How would I ever face anyone? She wishes I didn’t exist. In her reality, I don’t.” The break in his voice, the agony, cuts through me.
“Of course you can come home. There is not one person in this town that gives a shit what she’s said. We all know who you are. Danny, you have so many people—”
“Yeah, people who know what I show them. Who they think they know while I hide everything else. I’ve spent my life pretending that she is someone she’s not. Now? I just look like a fucking idiot. Cindy was right to say that I never had a mother. I also never had a father because she doesn’t know or couldn’t keep track of who she slept with, and she didn’t care anyway. I’m so sorry, Callie. I have to go.” He hangs up before I can stop him.
I know enough not to call back right away, but later, after three glasses of wine, I redial, knowing full well that I’ll hit his voice mail, which, right now, I prefer so that he can’t stop me from talking.
“You are not tooanythingto not come home. Not too crushed, not too damaged, not too sad or broken or ashamed or anything else you might be thinking, and you are not defined by who your mother is or how she treats you or speaks about you. Her faults reflect whosheis, not who you are. You are more whole than most people. It’s probably better that your crazy mother ran and left you in the care of so many wonderful people because look at how much love you were given. Most people don’t get that kind of upbringing. It’s not traditional, and it’s not without pain, but it made you into the guy I have fallen so passionately and profoundly in love with. She would have ruined you if she’d stayed, so don’t let her ruin you because she left.”
I take a breath, but it doesn’t keep me from starting to cry for the pain he’s going through.
“You didn’t trick me with some kind of fake version of yourself.” What I say next is tough to get out, but it has to be said. “I can be happy with my new life; I can go on without you if I have to, but please don’t make me. Please stay with me.”
After I hang up, I grab on to the bedding.Bwankies wiff wibbons what work.
“Please stay with me,” I whisper as I drift off. “Please come home.”
