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“They did this when you were in high school?”
“Yep.” I find a spot beneath an old oak, kicking a bit through the field grass to check for broken glass or anything I wouldn’t want Harlow sitting on, but the kids must have maintained the tradition of cleaning up whatever mess they bring in as well.
She helps me spread the blanket and we stretch out.
“Bet you can’t guess what they painted my year.”
“Hockey stick? You scoring with your parents weeping in the stands?”
“You’d think, right?” My girl is catering to my ego. Will wonders never cease? “Actually, it was a football jersey with Jordan Jamison’s name and number. He took us to State.”
She pulls a pout. “Enderson sure loves their football.”
“Got that right.”
I fold one arm behind my head and draw Harlow in with the other so she’s tucked into my side, her hand flat over my heart.
It feels good.
“How about you? What did you put in your square?”
“‘If you want something, work for it. If you don’t get it, work harder.’ One of those unknown-origin quotes off the internet, but I had it taped into my locker for about six years.”
She peers at me, the softest smile on her lips. “That’s so you. I love it.”
I hold her tighter.
After another minute, she takes a deep breath. Bracing. And I know she’s ready to talk.
“I wasn’t trying to hide who I was from you. It’s just… I didn’t think it would come up. Most people don’t know his name. And I guess I didn’t want to have to answer all the usual questions. I didn’t want to tell you what it’s like working for him or whether he’s proud to have me following in his footsteps.”
That quiet admission kills me. Makes me struggle to keep my hold loose and my breath even. She doesn’t need to be trying to calm my ass down.
“Your dad’s the one you… don’t have a good relationship with? The one you want to prove yourself to.”
“It wasn’t easy telling you that stuff.” She buries her face in my side and gives another small laugh, this one missing any trace of humor at all. “But it was way easier without you knowing who he was to me.”
“Hey, come on, Harlow,” I urge gently. “Don’t hide.”
“It’s so embarrassing. Wade, everyone knows what happened. I’ve been working at corporate in one capacity or another since I was sixteen, and I’ve never let on about the issues with my father. Until this, no one knew. And now… everyone does.”
There’s nothing I can say to ease that sting. Dave’s show of support this afternoon probably only served to underscore that greater hurt. The one that’s less about the job and more about her colleagues witnessing the lack of respect her own father showed her. There’s nothing to make it better. But I tell her anyway. “I’m so sorry. I wish you didn’t have to go through that.” Then, “Did something happen between you and your dad?”
Chapter 20
Wade
“It’s going to sound so melodramatic, but so far as I can tell, my first affront was being born.”
“What?”
“He only married my mother because he had to. He didn’t know much about her, from what I understand, and they didn’t spend much time together before she was killed. And after, he—” She sits up and shrugs. “He traveled, and with the hours he worked, he mostly stayed in the city, so I didn’t see a lot of him.”
I’m afraid to ask. “Who took care of you?”
“Nannies, mostly. But later”—she smiles, meeting my eyes—“teachers.”
The kind of people who dedicate their careers to providing approval for a job well done. I’ve got a new understanding of why Harlow is so driven to excel. And it breaks my damn heart.
