Page 47 of Restored Dreams

[Lily]

“I guess my dad is pretty mad, huh?” Chopper sits on a stool drawn up to my stainless steel table, watching me fill cupcake tins. He looks casual with his elbow pitched on the edge of the table while he leans forward as though he isn’t as filled with conflicting thoughts as he is. He watches me, dressed in his jeans and a faded T-shirt with the Restored Dreams logo on it. The process of filling cake cups is usually methodic and soothing, but today, I’m out of sorts, my rhythm is off, and I’m making a small mess.

“I think he has a right to be.”

“But he shouldn’t be mad at you. You didn’t do anything.”

I sigh. “That’s actually why he’s mad, honey. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t tell him we knew each other because I promised you I wouldn’t. And I didn’t tell him about your mother although, truthfully, I’d just heard the news myself.” I was still struggling with the fact that my older sister, the one estranged to me for almost twenty years, wanted to see me as well as her son.

Lauren’s friend Crystal had contacted me on Sunday evening. The call included a short rundown of Lauren’s health history. Lauren had abdominal pains she blew off for too long as indigestion. Instead, it was colon cancer. She was given only months to live although a more recent evaluation moved up her end date. She was in the hospital, and Crystal thought things might decline through the week. She thought Lauren was holding out hope for Chopper and me to come see her before she gave up.

“Tell me how you hooked up with Dad again?” I freeze, an extra dollop of batter overfilling the cupcake dish. He doesn’t mean the details of having sex with his father, but I’m still shaken by the question.

“We saw each other last week. On our vacations.” Chopper’s head twists, his expression puzzled as he thinks of something. Please don’t recognize my voice from the time you called.

“Huh, so weird he didn’t mention it when I spoke to him.”

“Really?” I mumble, removing batter from the overfilled wrapper as a diversion. I scrape out the batter as best I can and throw the wasted wrapper in the trash.

“So, you and Dad…just ran into each other. Two old friends, right?”

I’m not certain how much Chopper does or doesn’t know, but I won’t be the one who tells him the sordid history of his father, my sister, and me.

“Yep.”

Chopper nods his head, and it’s so similar to his father it pains me. His lips crook in a smile like his dad as well.

“You know, Lily, you can’t bullshit a bullshitter.”

My back to him, I stiffen as I’ve moved to the sink. “What do you mean?” I ask, reaching for the faucet handles to rinse my hands.

“I mean, my dad walked in here guns blazing, ready to carry you out of here over his shoulder if he had to. I’d say my dad has a thing for you. Isn’t that interesting?”

I continue to wash my hands, keeping them under the spray. Who knew how dirty they were?

“Interesting, definitely.” He’s waiting me out, and I have no choice but to turn off the sink and dry my hands. Turning to face him, I see one eyebrow cocked, an expression I recognize as well, and a look on his face of pure intrigue. As though he knows a secret, but he isn’t going to share it with me.

“Anyway. What did you decide?” I hate to circle back to less pleasant things—like his dying mother—but it’s better than continuing this song and dance about Brut and me. There is no Brut and me. I don’t want to pressure Chopper to make a decision about his mother, but I do think time is of the essence. If he wants to see her, the clock ticks. He looks over his shoulder at the large digital timer by the entrance to the bakery as if he reads my mind. He has to make a decision sooner rather than later.

“I’ve got to go to work.” He hops off the stool, and I sigh as he avoids answering my question. He takes two steps before stopping, his back to me, his voice soft. “Lily, if I go, will you come with me?”

My heart shreds with the fear in his voice, sounding so much like a child instead of the rugged young man he is at twenty-one, almost twenty-two.

“Of course, I’ll go with you.”

“I’d ask Dad, but I know he never wants to see her again. And I get it, but still…”

“I think if you asked your dad, he’d gladly go with you. Whether he wants to see Lauren or not, he’d go to support you.” I’m speaking for Brut, but I don’t think I’m talking out of turn. He’d do this for his son. I have faith in him in that regard.

“He’s pretty bitter about her.”

“With good reason,” I defend. “But he’s never been sour on you, Chopper. He loves you. I know this.”

Chopper turns back to face me. “How do you know?” He’s back to questioning me, as if he’s seeking answers about my relationship with his father more than questioning his father’s love for him.

“Once upon a time, I knew your dad, remember? He was a good man then, and I’m certain he’s a better man now.” I’m not bullshitting. Brut has been through a lot in life, all for others. He’d do the right thing for his son, no matter how he feels about my sister.

“Why wasn’t he with you instead?” It’s a rhetorical question, yet I still catch my breath. I don’t even think Chopper knows his dad and I were a thing. I’m just the aunt, the sister of the woman who bore him with his dad. Still, it’s something I’ve asked myself again and again in the past twenty-four hours. Why wasn’t it me? Why wasn’t Chopper mine? However, we can ask ourselves some questions until the end of time, and there’s never going to be an answer.