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“I guess I’ll see you later, then,” he says as Lola bounds back in the room.
“Where are you going, Daddy?”
“I have to go to work for a few hours. You and your mom are going to come and see me later, okay?”
“I guess,” she says, the sadness in her voice breaking my heart. “Promise.”
“Promise what?”
“Promise I get to see you later.”
Oh, Lola. He’s not going anywhere. I want to tell her this, but the words won’t come out. My tears make an appearance instead. Wyatt notices them before I have a chance to wipe them away.
“I promise, sweetheart. I’ll see you in a little bit. I’m not going far.”
After Wyatt leaves and Lola has her breakfast, I pull Addy aside and tell her my plan. I need her to watch Lola while I go to my parents’ house. She wants to go with me, of course, but I need to do this on my own.
Borrowing Jones’s car, I drive the short distance back to my parents. When I pull in the driveway, I’m surprised to find my parents’ car parked outside. They always park in the garage. My father is particular about protecting the paint from the sun, rain, everything.
I’m barely two steps through the front door when my mother appears in front of me.
“Where have you been?” she asks.
“Where’s Daddy?” I don’t bother to answer her question; she knows exactly where I was.
“He’s in the dining room, reading the paper.”
Walking past her, I head in the direction of my father knowing she’ll follow. When I enter the room, he folds down the corner of the paper, sees that it’s just me, and flips it back up.
“I see you found your way home.”
Home. I felt more at home in Wyatt’s house last night than I’ve ever felt at home here. Home is relative. Home is a place you should feel comfortable, safe, loved. I’ve never felt loved here. Not since I disappointed my parents.
“Something like that,” I reply, snatching the paper from his hands before taking the seat next to him.
“You need to mind your manners, young lady.” There’s not an ounce of anger in his voice. He sounds unaffected by my actions.
“We need to talk. All three of us,” I state firmly, looking over my shoulder to where my mother stands in the doorway.
“About what? That boy? We’ve had this conversation before, Chloe. I’m not sure what’s left to discuss,” my father says, his voice laced with disgust.
“That’s just it, Dad. We’ve never had this conversation.Youand mom spoke to me, but that wasn’t a conversation, that was a dictation. I was told what to do, where to go, how to live my life. I’m not a child anymore. In fact, I haven’t been a child for a long time.”
“Look at the way you’re acting. Climbing out windows. Running away. You’re acting like a child.” My mother’s words come from far away and echo through the room.
It’s not even noon and she’s pouring herself a snifter of brandy. Is that what it takes to have this talk? Does she need to ease the pain with alcohol?
“If you’re referring to my escape plan last night, fine. I could have walked out the front door, but not without having this fight with you and I wasn’t in the mood. You both think you have all the answers. Well, I have news for you. You don’t. Neither do I. This situation isn’t one that you can control. It never was, yet you found a way to try and control it. To control me.
“Congratulations, it worked. For a while. But now I’m taking control. I’m going to do what’s best for Lola. She deserves to know her father and he deserves to be a part of his life. He’s a good man, he always has been, but you never wanted to give him a chance. He shouldn’t have had to try and prove himself to you, though from what he says, he’s been trying for years now.”
“Is this about him buying all the land from us?” my father asks.
“No. This isn’t about the pond, Dad. It’s more than that. It’s—”
“The pond? I forget we even sold him that land.”
“What land were you talking about then?”
