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“Lucas,” began her mother when nobody else spoke. “We wanted to apologize for the other night, and for how we treated you.” She paused, sniffling. Her husband wrapped his arm around her shoulder. Then, she continued. “It’s clear that we misjudged you. We can tell you care for Natalie, and that you want what’s best for her.” She paused again, only this time she did not resume speaking.
“What we’re trying to say,” said the father, picking up where the mother had left off, “is that we weren’t right to make the assumptions we did. You love our daughter, and you’ve proven it with your actions.” He fell silent, looking over to his wife, who nodded at him. “Lucas,” he finished, “we want you to know you have our blessing. And that, well, that you’re a welcome part of this family.”
Once he finished speaking, the entire group fell silent. I felt thrilled—that Natalie was safe, but also that her parents accepted me. But then I remembered what Natalie had said—I was Sophie’s father. Had that been the truth, or something she said to throw Daniel off? I considered the timeline, and realized it was not outside the realm of possibility. This realization, though not unwelcome, filled me with a nameless anxiety. I loved Sophie, and already considered her like a daughter, but what bothered me was that Natalie had withheld the truth from me. I thought that we told each other everything, and with this disclosure, I couldn’t help but wonder whether there were other secrets she was keeping from me. I found myself wanting to be alone, to think things through, before I said or did anything I couldn’t unsay or undo.
All these thoughts blurred through my mind in a matter of seconds, so that by the time I reached this conclusion, Natalie’s parents were still looking at me patiently, with genuine smiles on their faces.
“That means a lot to me. Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Beckett—”
“Please,” interrupted the father. “Call us Kenney and Maureen.”
“Right, Kenney and Maureen, I really appreciate it.” Then, unsure of how to transition to his departure, he looked awkwardly down at Natalie, hoping she would understand from the look in his eyes. But she didn’t, she only smiled.
“Natalie,” I said, trying not to let my voice convey the tenseness I felt in that moment. “I need to go right now. I just need a moment, that’s all. You go home with your family, alright?” I smiled, but she didn’t smile back. “I’ll talk to you later, alright?” Still, no smile. Finally, unsure of what else I could say, I finished, “I love you, Natalie.”
Natalie looked at me blankly, saying nothing in response. But before I could give it any further thought, I kissed her softly on the forehead, shot an apologetic look toward her family, and left.
29
MAKING AMENDS
Natalie
I watched Lucas depart incredulously, unsure whether I’d made the whole interaction up in my head. But then I looked up at my parents, who were similarly gawking, and realized I had not. It was not until he got into his car and drove away that I was finally able to speak.
“I have to go after him,” I said to nobody in particular.
My mother looked down at me, resting a tender hand on my shoulder. “Honey, you’ve both been through a lot, maybe it’s best to leave things as they are for now, and revisit everything once you’ve both had time to process.”
I shrugged her hand off. “No, Mom, you don’t understand. I didn’t tell him about Sophie until today, just before you got here.”
Her eyes widened. “You mean… he didn’t know?”
“Know what?” interjected Sophie, impatiently. “What about me?”
“Nothing, sweetheart,” I said, pulling her into a hug. Looking over her shoulder, I locked eyes with my mother.He didn’t know, I mouthed to her, and she nodded in recognition. Then she looked over to my father, who also nodded.
“We may be your parents,” he said, “but you’re a big girl. It’s your life, and… maybe it’s time we accept that you know what’s best. Even if we don’t see eye-to-eye.” He smiled at me, proud to have raised someone capable of making her own choices and navigating the turmoil of her own life. He turned to face my mother. “Maureen, why don’t you take Sophie to get some ice cream? I’ll give Natalie a ride.”
“Ice cream!” shouted Sophie, bringing a welcome tonal shift.
“Well, I guess that settles that!” my mom said, and we all laughed. We all stood up, hugged one another, and parted ways; my mother and Sophie toward the ice cream shop, my father and me toward the car.
The entire car ride was silent, albeit not in an uncomfortable way. It was as if we had said all that we needed to, and with no expectation of parental wisdom or formality came a serenity that was readily embraced by all parties. It was, at last, the calm after the storm.
“Right or left?” my father said finally, and when I came out of my meditative spell I realized we had already reached Laguna Way.
“Right,” I said, impressed that my father had remembered where Lucas lived. I stopped him after we’d driven a few blocks. “Here it is. Right here is fine.”
He pulled off the road and stopped the car, then turned to face me. His expression was gentle. “You know… I’m really proud of you,” he said. “Your mom and I both are.”
Despite the wave of emotion I felt, I smiled, afraid any other reaction would bring him to tears. “I love you, Dad. Thank you, for everything.”
He smiled back. “Love you, kiddo.” Then, looking over at the wrought-iron gates and, just beyond that, Lucas’s sprawling lake house, he said, “You take it from here. And call me if you need a ride, okay?” He kissed me on the forehead, watched me get out of the passenger seat, and drove away.
The front gate was unlocked as usual, and so I slipped through and walked toward the driveway, where Lucas’s car was parked haphazardly, as though he’d been in a great rush to get inside. I passed the car and went straight to the front door, which also was unlocked—a slightly more unusual occurrence—and quietly let myself in, surveying the landscape for any sign of him. He had thrown his keys and wallet onto the kitchen island, but other than that there was no trace of him. I walked quietly toward the staircase, and it was there that I heard what sounded to me like labored breathing emanating from his bedroom. I crept up the stairs, finding that the bedroom door was only slightly ajar. He didn’t usually shut this door, as he lived here alone, but the way it was positioned made me wonder whether he had been expecting me to come after him.
“You can come in,” Lucas called calmly from the other side, confirming my suspicion. Nervously, I pushed the door open and stepped into the room. There he was, sprawled out on his bed, staring intently at the ceiling.
