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One of the waitresses stops by the table, dropping off a glass of water for me. I thank her and sip at the water. Dad swallows hard, looking around the bar and shifting in his seat.
“Why are we here?” I finally ask when the tension gets to be too much. “What are we doing?”
“Your mom was out of line the other night. She never should have done that to Tracey. I want you to know she and I have had many words on the matter.”
“I appreciate that.” I draw my finger through the condensation on my glass. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I will not be bringing Tracey around the family anymore, assuming she ever even agrees to be with me again.”
“For what it’s worth, I think she is a lovely woman, and her daughter is charming. The three of you looked good together, and I was happy you had finally found happiness. I know you’ve been angry for quite some time, and I was worried about you spending the rest of your life alone. She brings out a side of you that I haven’t seen since you were in university.”
“I appreciate that as well, but you don’t understand what has happened. Mom said racist shit to Tracey, causing her—the woman I love—to walk out of my life with the child I also happen to love.”
Dad says nothing, staring at me for a moment before nodding. “I spent a lot of years of my life keeping you at a distance. I am not willing to continue doing that.”
“I’ll not be around Mom any more.” I run a hand through my hair. “If she gets sick again, of course I’ll be there, but I’ll not be pretending her behavior toward Tracey is alright.”
“I would never expect you to. You must protect your family, as I should have protected mine. I was angry at you when I found out you knew about Elaine’s infidelity when I should have been comforting you. I cannot imagine what you went through, and that is one of my biggest regrets. I should have been there for you as a father is supposed to be. I am glad if given the chance, you would be a better father than I ever was.”
I swallow hard, my vision blurring slightly. Though I wouldn’t allow myself to cry, I know what it must have taken for him to admit his wrongs. It’s something my dad has rarely done in my lifetime. The fact that he is doing it now means the world to me.
“What are you going to do to win Tracey back?”
I sigh and lean back in the chair, staring at the wall. “The best I can do for her is to let her go. I have to. Hanging onto her is only going to hurt both of us.”
“Are you going to be alright?”
“I don’t know.”
Would I be alright? I doubted it. Each day without Tracey is worse. I feel myself drowning in the memories of moments we shared together. All I can think about is what went wrong and how I could have done more to fix it. I sit at home and analyze every moment from the time we met until the time she left. In each of those moments, I find flaws, see my shortcomings… the cracks that were forming that I hadn’t noticed.
“All I want is for you to be happy,” Dad says before taking another sip of his beer. “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Do you mind just sitting with me for awhile?”
“That I can do.”
Dad and I sit in the bar, talking about the years that had gone by. It’s strange that now that I’m in my forties, I feel like I’m finally getting to know who my father really is, and in turn he’s getting to know parts of me he never knew before. It’s also the perfect opportunity to take my mind off of Tracey for just a little while. And for that, I’m grateful.
I don’t know if my relationship with my dad will ever fully recover, but it is a beginning. Bringing us back together is just another thing I’ll have to thank Tracey for. She didn’t know what changes she was making in my life, but she made them all the same. She has changed so much without even trying.
And there I go, thinking about her again. It doesn’t seem as if my thoughts can stray too far from my baby.
Guilt still plagues me as I repeat the process of the last several days—drive home and sink into whatever bottles of liquid pleasure I can find in my cupboards. Drowning the memories seems infinitely better than reliving them.
Chapter Nineteen
Tracey
I have a daughter who is hurting, and no clue how I’m going to explain what has happened and help her to cope. In less than a year, she has lost both her father and a man she was treating like a father figure.
I’m expecting her to blame me again. It wouldn’t surprise me if she did. I have changed her life in a massive way yet again. There’s no stability—no sense of a place to relax and be herself without fear of what comes next.
“Mom?” Deja opens the door to my room and sticks her head inside. “Are you okay?”
“Why do you ask?”
She walks into the room, her eyes fixed on the ground. When she looks up, I can see the glassiness of unshed tears. Deja’s bottom lip quivers as she sits on the bed beside me, leaning back into the pillows and staring straight ahead. She’s trying her hardest to hold herself together, and it’s killing me.
“Deja, honey, are you okay?”
