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“That sounds like something Elaine told you to say.”
“It isn’t,” he says. “The potential income from your mother’s first Chanel wardrobe alone would cover everything we need for the rest of the year.”
“What else do ‘we’ need, Dad?” My chest aches. “You sold off some of her jewelry last month to supposedly cover the mortgage payments for the year. What is it now?”
“Your winning comes at a premium cost, you know,” he says. “Despite the money you earn from sponsorships, the extensive travel, costumes, and elite coaching all eat into that. Miss Price’s training costs six thousand a month.”
“I’m aware.” I shake my head. “But last time I checked, I’m covering some of that with the money Mom left for me.”
“You still ask us for things from time to time, Tati.”
I bite my tongue, wanting to tell him that I do whatever I can tonotgo to him for help.
“Still, I would like to be able to travel to things that don’t revolve around your skating schedule all the time.” His words sound familiar to Harlow and Elaine’s again. “It would be nice to feel guiltless about taking weekend trips or wanting to go on small vacations here or there.”
“I honestly can’t remember the last time you showed up to a competition.”
“I just watched you skate in Portland.”
“On television,” I say. “I don’t expect you to show up to these skating ‘things’ anyway, but the least you can do is stop bullshitting me with your lies.”
“Excuse me, young lady?”
“Let me ask you something, Dad.” I can’t take his spinelessness anymore. “Do you think that if you stopped trying to fund Elaine’s over the top lifestyle that she would still be with you?”
“Tati…” He sighs, signaling that a lecture is coming, but I refuse to take notes.
Elaine’s lust for the finer things in life will never be quelled. She’ll always want more, more, more, and she’ll always get it. My father is far too smitten (and stupid) to see that she’d ask him to sell his soul if it meant she’d get a Prada bag in return.
“You don’t understand, Tati,” he says after minutes of rambling. “You’ve always struggled to make friends, and I don’t think you’ve ever seen why.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Perhaps if you ever find someone who cares about you, you’ll see how far you’re willing to go to keep them in your life.”
“Even if they drain me dry or isolate me from my own flesh and blood?”
His silence tells me all I need to know.
“I gotta go,” I say. “I’m meeting someone. I’ll be home at some point.”
“Whenever that is, we need to sit down and talk.”
“Okay, Dad.” I know that conversation will never happen with just the two of us, so I play along and give him a hollow “I love you,” before hanging up.
I’ve never been much of a crier, but hot tears are falling down my face, and my chest feels like it’s about to explode.
I feel the sudden need to get out of here and be alone.
I can’t let Travis see me like this…
Before I can figure out where I should go, I spot Travis standing near a baggage carousel with a massive bouquet of red roses.
Turning every passing woman’s head as always, he’s dressed in a white t-shirt that accentuates his abs and dark blue jeans. He looks perfect.
I wipe my eyes and step backward. Just as I’m preparing to turn around, his eyes meet mine, and he smiles, pinning me to the spot.
Like a scene in a romance novel, he walks toward me in slow motion, pulling me into his arms.
