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“I can already see you take after me in negotiation skills.” I drop a kiss onto his forehead.
After we clean up, we head to the second floor and he gets ready for bed. As he slips under the covers, he peers around his room, questions in his eyes. “Dad, what did you do with this room before me?”
Before him. Sometimes it hardly seems like there was a before him—he’s what I wanted for so long.
“I didn’t have this place before you,” I say, sitting on the side of the bed.
He tilts his head, studying me curiously. “Where did you live then?”
“In a very tall building in the Sixties. With my ex-wife.”
“You got this house for me?”
“Well, yeah. Youandme, buddy,” I say, patting his leg.
He smiles, wide and wonderful. “That’s pretty cool,” he says. “I’m glad Grandma and Grandpa found you.”
My heart swells. “Me too. You have no idea how glad,” I say, my throat tightening as I hug him. “I wish I’d known you your whole life.”
But at least I have him now. He’s what matters most to me in the whole world.
Parenting is funny like that. You go from not knowing someone to them being your entire heart.
I say goodnight, the house no longer so empty. I do some work in my office, then eventually head to bed and shut my door. Alone, in the dark, under the covers, I open my texts, allowing myself just one more peek.
Jules: I’ll think of you when I wear these.
My skin goes hot at the message. And I’m imagining her in them, and the things she might be doing as she thinks of me.
15
FREEDOM TO BLURT
Jules
“There. And it’s opened.” My father seems pleased over his end of the Zoom session. Retirement planning isn’t my idea of a relaxing Sunday night, but now it’s done.
“Thanks, Dad,” I say, closing out the window on the mutual fund page.
He sighs, looking relieved. “I just want you to be…prepared.”
That word sounds loaded. But no one could really have been prepared for what happened to Willa. Somehow, though, being prepared for my future, being practical, and being responsible is how he honors her.
At least,I think so. I don’t know. We don’t talk about it.
“It’s never too early to start. I wish I’d started saving earlier,” he admits.
“Sure, I get that,” I say. My mutual fund has a paltry five hundred dollars in it, but I suppose it’s something. It can’t hurt to think ahead, even though the future I’m most interested in is this week and the agenda Bridger said he has slated for me. My boss returns from a Los Angeles trip in a few days, and wants me to join him at some of his Webflix meetings to discuss another season ofHappy Enough, and to talk more aboutThe Rendezvous.
I don’t let myself drift too long on the hope of working more onThe Rendezvous, and instead focus on my dad and his financial advice. “I won’t start too late,” I say.
“Good. It’s one of my biggest regrets,” he adds.
One of. But it’s not his biggest. We all know his biggest regret—that he wasn’t home the night Willa drowned. That she sneaked out. But we don’t talk about that night either.
“Well, thanks for helping me,” I say.
“Anytime, sweetheart.” That’s rare too—the affection underlying in his tone. Then he adds, “I love you.”
