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He nods, his eyes holding mine.
“It’s okay. Out you go.” I smile.
He begrudgingly does as he’s told.
The rest of us stay silent.
“What’s going on?” Frances eventually asks.
Julian’s breath quivers as he tries to control his anger, placing his hands on his hips.
“I don’t want Willow to go back to that school,” I tell them quietly. “She has no friends and she’s miserable. I’m scared for her mental health.”
Julian glares at me, his fury palpable.
“I agree with you,” Joseph says firmly. “She doesn’t even need to go to school. She’s finished year ten. She already has a position in the family business. She can do the rest of her schooling through correspondence at work.”
“The whole world isn’t about the fucking family business, Dad!” Julian yells.
“You wouldn’t know because you refuse to work in it,” Joseph hits back. “This is about you not wanting to work there, not Willow.”
I put my hands on my head, knowing this is getting out of control.
“Stop it,” I whisper angrily. “I only care about Willow. I want what’s best for Willow.”
“What’s best for Willow is you butting out.” Julian growls.
My anger rises and I glare up at him with fire in my eyes. “Fine,” I hiss, and then I turn and storm to my room.
I’ve never felt so hopeless in all of my life.
The house has been silent all afternoon. Julian and I aren’t speaking to each other. Willow is holed up in her bedroom, while I have been hovering around her trying to make sure she’s okay.
I’m sitting at the kitchen table trying to work out what to say to Julian to make this right. I just don’t believe that she can go back to that school safely.
It’s 8:00 p.m. when the doorbell rings and Julian goes to open the door.
“Lola, hello.” He smiles. “This is a nice surprise.”
My face falls. What’s she doing here?
“I just came to check on Will. Is it okay if I visit with her for a while?”
“Of course.” He smiles. “Come in, come in.”
Lola walks in and smiles when she sees me. “Hello, Brell.” “Hello, Lola. How thoughtful of you to visit.” I stand nervously. “Willow is upstairs, I’ll just get her—”
“No, I’ll show her up,” Julian interrupts. “This way.” He leads her upstairs and I put the kettle on. He returns only moments later.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” I ask.
He nods and slides into place on a stool at the kitchen counter.
I dunk the teabag into the water. “I’m sorry about this afternoon. I just...” I pause, wanting to get this right. “I’m scared for her.”
He nods to himself. “I am, too.” He scratches his head. “I’m also sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I said to you.”
We sit in silence, neither of us knowing what to say to the other.
