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He was going to be meeting her family in less than two weeks so the least she could do was have dinner with his father and stepmother.
He’d be here any minute to pick her up too. She decided to pack some clothes for tomorrow. She knew beyond a doubt she was probably going to spend the night. He’d just have to bring her back to get her car after dinner since it was on the way, or do it in the morning.
They’d figure it out just like they figured most other things out.
She threw the last of her clothes in her bag, then put it on the couch just at the same time she heard a car door outside.
She picked her purse up and grabbed the bag, then opened her door to see Wesley coming up the stairs. “You look nice,” he said.
“It’s just pants and a shirt,” she said, grinning. “You look nervous.”
“Sorry. You always look nice to me.” He leaned down to kiss her. “Please tell me you’re staying the night. I’m going to need it for sure.”
“I planned on it. You can bring me home in the morning on your way to work or drop me back after dinner to get my car. I know you don’t get along well with your father. Tell me what is going on. I was shocked to get the text to change the reservation.”
He hadn’t said much more than his father was in town. She didn’t like surprises and she could see by his grip on the steering wheel in the car that he didn’t either.
“He showed up out of the blue. No notice. Nothing. Had Kelly come get me and didn’t even give his name to her.”
“That’s odd. Isn’t it?”
“With my father, nothing is odd in my eyes. He acted all happy for me. Brenda, his wife, she is big smiles and thrilled as a squirrel to see nuts dropping out of a tree to go on a trip. She’s a stay-at-home mother and wife, but she hates flying and driving. It’s taken them days to get here as she makes him stop every five hours or so.”
Jasmine started to laugh. “She’d never have survived in my world. I can’t tell you the plane flights we had growing up. Everything and anything. Some shaking so badly you weren’t sure you were going to make it to a landing. Ivy cried every time. Dahlia just had her head between her knees.”
“Your father never gave her anything to help with the sickness?”
“Sometimes he did,” she said. “It depends. He didn’t like to do it. I think he thought she could get over it at times. Like mind over matter. ‘Look at these poor people around just happy to get basic vaccines and you want medicine to get through a flight?’”
“That’s mean,” he said. “Sorry, but it is.”
She sighed. “Sorry. He’s never said exactly that, but it was implied. Dahlia is stubborn. Everyone knew she got sick and yet my father didn’t try to make it more comfortable for her and she refused to ask. I don’t know, maybe they were both trying to prove a point. I didn’t let it get to me other than it grossed me out. I never wanted to sit by her, but listening to Ivy cry the whole time and clutch my hand wasn’t much better.”
The things they went through as children. Sure, many would say in the bigger scheme of things it wasn’t a big deal, but to the kid going through it, it was the end of the world at all times.
She figured in their own way they were all damaged and just trying to get through as best they could.
Having Ivy living with her soon would be interesting. Maybe it’d give them a chance to talk about their childhood and how it was affecting them now. The few phone calls or texts a month never gave any of them a chance before.
Now she was starting to wonder what she was getting herself into, but she wouldn’t leave her sister hanging.
“Either way, I shouldn’t have made that comment,” he said. “I’m ornery right now waiting to find out what is going on with my father and why he’s here. Just so you know, I didn’t tell him you were coming with me. Nothing against you. I’m pretty sure my father is going to ask me for money. That is what my mother and I both believe.”
“Does he do that often?” she asked.
“Enough. It’s normally all he cares about. Or the fact he lost it when my mother filed for divorce. It was a fast one too. I know they didn’t get along toward the end, but she filed for divorce, not him.”
“Really?” she asked. “You never talked to your mother about it?”
“No,” he said. “She’s a private person. I mean she’s told me some things. More like things I’ve overheard but never asked. I witnessed enough fights with them.”
“I’m sorry about that. I can say my parents didn’t argue much. Or if they did, we never saw it. I’m sure they did. Everyone fights, but they kept it away from us kids. Maybe they figured life was hard enough for us.”
“You won’t know until you ask,” he said. “Anyway, I wanted you to know. My father surprised me with his visit today and I’m going to surprise him with you. My mother thinks if I told him I couldn’t meet, he’d stay another night in town until we could.”
She turned to look at him. “Do you think he won’t ask for help if I’m there?”
“Money,” he said. “Not help. Brenda has never worked. My father needed someone to take care of him. He got that with a younger wife, but he lost the fancy living he had too. We all make choices in life. Brenda could have gone to work after the kids were in school full time, but my father didn’t want it.”
