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Both me and my dad could only stare with wide eyes. My mom was the quintessential quiet wife who never challenged her husband, especially not in front of him. What she’d just said was practically like watching a dog stand up on two legs, put on a coat, and announce it was leaving for the office.
“Annie, I–” my dad started.
“You owe Lola an apology. And you need to do some serious thinking about what’s more important to you. Would you rather have status, or would you rather see your daughter be happy?”
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but part of me was bracing for an explosion of anger and a shouting match. I thought maybe my dad would yell until my mom never got it in her head to challenge him again. Instead, he seemed to deflate a little. After a while, he nodded his head, as if having a conversation in his thoughts.
“I’m sorry, Lola. Your mom is right. And you’ve always done well by yourself with work and paying your own way. I shouldn’t act like you’re clueless about the world. I just–:”
“Howard,” my mom warned.
He grinned, then nodded again. “I support what you did.”
My mom folded her arms with a look of satisfaction, then gave me a secret little smile. I returned it, then went to hug my dad. It felt good. I didn’t want to be mad at him. I wanted to feel like my parents were behind me, too. I didn’t expect to feel tears welling in my eyes when he squeezed me in his big arms. Maybe the apology had been pried from him by my mom, but I thought it was sincere, and I felt so grateful to finally have the saga of shit that was Brian behind me once and for all.
I only wished Christian was here to share it with me.
* * *
My dad had to leave for work but my mom, Kate, and Max all hung around the kitchen while we waited for a few frozen pizzas we’d picked up to finish cooking.
Max had finally come clean about her boy troubles and revealed this guy she was hung up on only seemed interested if they were going to the same school. Every time the prospect of a semi-long distance relationship came up, he seemed to pull back. Even though I wanted to tell her to forget the guy because she deserved someone who would take her however she was able to be, I could tell she really liked him.
Me, my mom, and Kate all tag teamed a little to give her our combined advice, but I suspected none of it was a whole lot of use. If she was in New York, the boy was going to move on. That seemed to be Max’s take, anyway.
I’d already felt myself pulled back towards Colorado before the conversation, but Max’s boy trouble was just another stone on the scales. Calling Paisley and Cassie had been yet another temptation to bring me back. Honestly, I just missed my new life in Colorado. I missed my weird run-ins with Rusty at the apartment complex and how I could hear the faint sound of Western movies playing when I passed his office. I missed Harper, her cute kids, and even their friends I’d been getting to know like Lin, Harper, and her husband’s brother, Zack. I missed the charming town events Fairhope always seemed to plan. I missed the weather and the scenery and all the open air of Colorado compared to the claustrophobia of Manhattan. I even missed my job at Stone Tower.
But I couldn’t picture what life would be like if I went back now. Christian had broken things off with me and claimed I still had my job if I wanted it, but what would that look like? Would he be stiff and formal with me? Or would he go back to his grouchy, rude self? Or would the sexual tension between us still sizzle every time we were in the same room?
I frankly had no idea what it would feel like, and that made me want to stay here in Manhattan–to keep running just like I’d run from my problems when everything in the city blew up with Brian.
I was a few slices too many into the pizza and tuned out of the conversation Max, Kate, and my mom were having about the new season of Stranger Things when it finally hit me. I realized I didn’t want to be the same woman who ran from my problems when I caught Brian cheating. I wanted to prove to myself that I’d changed.
What had running bought me last time? Just months of stress bombs threatening to blow up in the back of my mind at a moment’s notice. If I’d confronted my problems when they happened, I could’ve been so much more free.
