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“I’m glad you’re back, Dad. I missed you even though I hadn’t met you.”
“I missed you, too, kiddo. So freaking much.”
The front door opened with the jangle of the same belled decorative wreath my mother made for every season. Ellison walked into the house as if it were her own and stopped still when she saw us as if momentarily frozen.
Adele and I pulled apart and I fist bumped her.
“Good playing. I’m gonna go through those old boxes and see what other song books I can come up with.”
“Are you going to take back your room?”
“Are you kidding me? That’s your room. I’m not even gonna go in there unless you tell me I can. I’ll take Fox’s old room where I slept last night. Do you want to take your guitar home so you can practice there?”
“Well…when I play it usually makes my mom sad.”
“Adele, you can play at home,” Ellison said somberly.
“I can?! Oh yeah, I guess since Calvin’s home, you don’t have to be so sad anymore.”
Ellison cleared her throat and shifted her bag. “We’ve got to go, Dellie, I got a job interview and I don’t want to be late.”
“I can watch her anytime,” I said, running my fingers through my hair. “I mean, if you’re okay with that, of course.”
“Thanks for the offer,” Ellison said coldly.
“Can I see Calvin again, Mom? Like tomorrow, preferably. We’re working on some music and we already missed like ten years’ worth of rehearsal time.”
“We’ll see, Adele,” Ellison told her.
I looked at her and nodded, trying to convey that whatever she’s comfortable with was enough for me. I was grateful for this—for ten minutes with Adele—or whatever she’d give me. I didn’t know what it meant to be a father. But the deep ache in my chest was real and I felt like I’d do anything for both of these women. Make the ultimate sacrifice, grovel on my knees, give them every penny of every paycheck. But I knew what I needed to do and it didn’t come in one ten-minute visit. I would have to earn their trust.
Chapter 40
ELLISON
Only a day passed before Calvin was texting me about things that had nothing to do with Adele.
Calvin: How’d the job interview go? I’m sure you got it, but if for any reason you didn’t, I can help you find employment, it’s the least I can do.
Calvin: (10 minutes later) I just thought, if you don’t want to work and just finish school. I’ll work and support you and Adele. It’s the least I can do.
Calvin: (15 minutes later) I get it. Too much, too soon. I’ll back off.
Calvin: (20 minutes later) But I can support you. I should. So let me send you guys a check. Okay, I’ll shut up now.
I squinted at the clock. It was only six am. I guessed Cal’s internal clock must still be synched to prison time.
I hadn’t even opened anything else on my phone when Cal texted again.
Calvin: What about breakfast? Does Adele like pancakes? I could take her out so you could get some time to yourself?
And then…
Calvin: Okay, sorry. I’ll shut up.
I laughed in spite of myself. Oh my God, he was losing his mind.
“Hey, Mom!” Adele screamed from downstairs. “Do we have any pancake mix? If not, can you come down and mix some up for me? I forgot if it’s baking soda or baking powder for pancakes!”
I propped up the pillows behind me. “Coming!” I yelled to Adele. I was reinforcing her bad habit of yelling across the house like I always told her not to do. Like father like daughter, these two had no chill.
I texted and deleted like ten times before I decided on:
Ellison: We can make breakfast here. Can you stop for blueberries and orange juice?
The text bubbles went ballistic for longer than they should have. He was likely texting and deleting, too.
Calvin: I’ll be right there! With blueberries and orange juice.
I helped Adele mix together the batter. She jabbered away the entire time about guitars and about Calvin’s playing. I’d never seen her so excited to spend time with anyone, not even her besties. She got flour all over her arm, then the counter and the floor. I was glad I’d made her put an apron on.
Her whole life thus far, I’d worked to make her self-sufficient, teaching her to cook and clean and manage her own bank account when she turned eight. I never wanted her to rely on anyone besides herself. My therapist thought I was overcompensating, trying to preemptively relieve her of a broken heart. I just wanted her to have coping skills; lord knew, I wished I’d had them.
“He’s here!” Adele screamed and took off running for the front door. I’d seen this type of reaction before, for her Uncle Fox, but never quite so fan-girlish. It proved to me right then and there that no matter how much my daughter had assured me she was fine without, Adele desperately needed and wanted a father. I just hoped Calvin Montgomery was up for the job.
