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“He wasn’t my father.”
“No one else knew that!” she exclaimed, her arms flailing around in the air. “I hope you’re ashamed of yourself.”
“Not even a little bit,” I admitted, smugness filling me at the chance to say my piece. “And I’ve spent the last few weeks telling people that Bruce wasn’t my father. You see, I decided I was tired of hiding behind a lie and a secret that wasn’t mine to keep. It was no skin off my nose if people knew that Bruce was firing blanks or that the two of you liked swinging more than sliding. I told Audrey Violet the other day, so I’m sure your days of living in Bells Pass with your secret, and pride, intact are coming to an end. Though, I can’t say you ever had any pride. You married Bruce, after all.”
Her arm arced and she slapped me across the face. Before I had a chance to defend myself, she attacked me, throwing me sideways as I got off balance. The last thing I remembered before darkness engulfed me was a guttural cry, a sharp pain, and a creak.
“Lance!”
I groaned internally as I turned to see Ivy chasing me down.
“Ivy, I just want to go home.”
“No,” she said, grabbing my coat and hauling me in the door of the diner. I don’t know how she managed to whip me into a booth, but I was sitting in one before she finished the word. She pointed at me. “Stay.”
“I’m not a dog.”
She didn’t answer me. Instead, she went to the pie case and got several pieces, then grabbed a pot of coffee and brought it back to the table. She poured me a cup before she slid into the booth and leaned over the table.
“You’re not allowed to quit.”
I glanced around the diner and back to her. “Last time I checked, we live in a free country?”
“Let me rephrase that. I’m not allowing you to quit. You can turn down the manager position and continue to work here as a cook. I’m sorry that I pushed without thinking the whole thing through.”
“You talked to Indie.”
“I did,” she agreed, her shoulder going up a hair. “I called her right after you left the bakery, unbeknownst to me, of course. I can’t believe you blamed Indie for your mother dying and you losing your job. Not cool, Lance!”
I leaned back in the booth just in case she decided to punch me. “I already feel terrible for saying that, Ivy. I don’t always have a good filter when I’m upset. Indie knows that.”
“I hope so, because otherwise you hurt her terribly for no reason. Eat your pie, I’ll be right back.”
She left the booth and I stared at the eggnog pie, my heart a jumbled mess of emotions and my head unable to make heads or tails of any of it. I knew I hurt Indie by saying what I said, but in a way, I was trying to protect her. If she stopped dating me, then she didn’t have to deal with all the issues that arise from my accident. Living with the inability to read and write wasn’t just inconvenient. Sometimes, it was downright dangerous. It also limited my earning potential and as someone who should hold the role of breadwinner, I would never be able to work my way up the ranks or work in other restaurants. I couldn’t even drive.
Ivy returned to the table and laid a box next to my arm. It was the glasses. I shook my head and pushed them back to her. “I’m not taking the glasses or the job, Ivy.”
“The glasses are not contingent on you taking the job. I’m sorry that you didn’t understand that the first time, but let me be clear, the glasses are to help make your job and your life easier.”
“I don’t understand why Cameron paid for them.”
“He didn’t, his nonprofit did. That’s what it does. It provides tools, transportation, and medical devices to people with disabilities so they can continue to work in the community. You can’t tell me those glasses won’t simplify your work life.”
“We’ve been over this, Ivy. You know they would.”
“Then that’s why he bought them. No other reason. And no repayment required.”
I eyed the glasses nervously. I so badly wanted to take them, put them on, and for the first time in as long as I could remember, not have to worry about what I was missing in the world. I couldn’t do that, though. I didn’t work here anymore.
“I can’t take the management job, Ivy. There’s no way for me to do the training or the job, physically or mentally. That part of my brain was obliterated by the snowmobile. I’ll never remember how to read or write!”
“Shh, I know. I approached the situation the wrong way, Lance. I’m tired and frustrated, so when Shep suggested making you the manager, I jumped on the idea without thinking it through. I apologize for putting you in an uncomfortable position. That was never my intention.”
I nodded. “I know. Or I should say, now that I had time to think about it, I know that wasn’t your intention. It’s partly my fault. I don’t go into detail about my brain injury, so I can’t expect you to know what I can and can’t do. That’s my problem. I don’t know how to communicate it well. I guess because my mom always made me feel like I had to keep it a secret. See, more than just my reading and writing was damaged in the accident.”
“I know, Lance. You don’t have to explain your decisions to me. They’re your decisions.”
“But I do,” I insisted. “To the outside world I look and act like everyone else, right? I asked and she nodded. “The thing is, I’m not. My brain works vastly different than everyone else now, so if I’m stressed or emotional, it short circuits and I can’t force it to take any kind of logical path. Does that make sense?” She nodded and I sighed, my shoulders slumping. “When you suggested the promotion, I was just so heartbroken I couldn’t get my brain to take the right path and it veered into traffic, so to say. The end result was me quitting because that was all my brain could tell me to do.”
