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“What are you doing?” Her father’s voice seemed louder, deeper. At the sound of it, Miranda’s nerves tingled, like an electric current coursing through her. Awkwardly, she dropped the receipt and slid the drawer closed.
Dad stood there, his mouth hanging open in shock and, maybe, disappointment.
Heat, burning, rose to her cheeks. “Uh, nothing. I just…” Her words trailed off, mind blank. If there was a suitable explanation for this invasion of privacy, even one that would be remotely plausible, it wasn’t coming to her. She stared down at the hardwood floor, the distressed blue and gray runner laying atop it.
The flee part of her simply wanted to step around her father and make a run for it. Out the front door and into the chilly night, where maybe, just maybe, she could breathe again.
“I’ll ask again. And I want an answer. What the hell are you doing?”
There was no other alternative beyond coming clean. Wandering in by mistake was laughable. And even if she could get him to buy that, how could she explain the open closet, the open storage box drawer?
She sighed. “Can we go sit down?”
“Sure. I think we need to talk.” Dad looked angry, but also a little fearful and nervous. He turned and left her standing there. Again, she was seized with an urge to run. But she was an adult and grown-ups faced consequences. Despite her intentions, she’d abused her father’s trust.
He sat on the sofa, staring out at the night beyond the sliding glass doors. The Eastlake neighborhood rose up across the water; the warm yellow lights in houseboats, businesses, and homes taunted her, making her imagine that everyone else in the world was having a normal and quiet evening.
Meanwhile, here on the other side of the lake, Miranda’s world was crumbling.
She hated that he wasn’t looking at her.
Choosing the leather chair near the fireplace, she sat across from him. Silence filled the room, and it wasn’t a comfortable one. Finally, she blurted, because she had to know, “Are you married?”
At last, he met her gaze. He smiled, but there was defeat—and maybe a little embarrassment—in his expression. “You weren’t supposed to know.”
Outrage rose—anger buzzed around inside her brain, nauseating. “What? Did I hear you right?”
“Yet. Yet. You weren’t supposed to know yet. We wanted to wait until you were a little bit more on board with Trey.”
“Trey? Or Bruno?”
“Huh?”
She breathed out hard. “I know I shouldn’t have been snooping, but, Daddy, I only had your best interests at heart. No excuse. But those are his things in the closet opposite yours, right?”
He nodded.
“I didn’t see much, but I did see a receipt with the name Bruno Purdy on it.”
“No, you shouldn’t have been snooping. I know about the name. I don’t know why he changed his name, but he’ll let me know when he’s ready.” He eyed her. “I trust him. I know that whatever the reason is, it’ll make sense when he’s ready to tell me about it. The name is old. He hasn’t used it for years. It only came up when we had to get our marriage license downtown at City Hall.”
“So you’re definitely married?”
“Yeah, honey. I’m sorry you had to find out this way. We meant to tell you together—and to make it festive. We were just hoping you’d come around, and be in a better place about us.”
“But why? You and Steve were together for twenty years. And you never marriedhim.”
He shrugged. “You have to understand. When Steve and I got together, we never imagined wecouldget married. It seemed so out of reach, even in the ’90s. And then, I don’t know, when it became legal, it was always something we said we’d do one day. We talked about it. But it was just one of those things we never got around to doing. I thought it was because we were so solid we didn’t need a piece of paper to prove we were a couple, a family.” He grimaced. “Turns out I’m relieved we never took that step. Life would have been a lot more complicated when he up and left me for another man.”
He stopped suddenly. Although she wasn’t a mind reader, she could read facial expressions, and what was written across her father’s features was pain. That pain could only be attributed to the fact that her father still had feelings for the man, prior to just this past Thanksgiving, he’d thought he’d spend all of his days with.
“But why Trey? You haven’t known him very long.” She cocked her head. “Is this a rebound thing?”
He thought about her question. The wheels turned. He deflected and she wasn’t surprised. “I love you, Miranda. But you have no right to question my motivations and especially my decisions around loving someone.” He stood and walked to the window to stare out. “I made a choice.” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Oh, come on. I told you. You hate Trey. You haven’t come around at all until tonight for weeks. And now? This reaction? You figure out why we held off on telling you.”
