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All at once, the anxiety I’ve felt all day shifts to something else. Something raw and painful that I’ve tried to squash down for years.
“Are those okay?” he asks, misunderstanding my sudden tears. “Do you not like them anymore? I should have guessed. It was years and years ago when you used to eat those. I just thought—”
“I love them.” I swipe at my eyes and put on a smile. “I do. I love them so much that I… I haven’t had them since you left. Er, since we left. It was too hard to remember the old days.”
His face pinches with sympathy.
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t going to do this. We were going to have a normal dinner, but I already made it weird. I didn’t mean—”
“You didn’t make it weird. You made it honest.” He blows out a breath. “All of this is hard, Corde—Cora. But we’re here and I’m glad we’re trying to figure it out. No matter how uncomfortable it is.”
“You’re uncomfortable, too?”
“Oh God, yes,” he groans. “Don’t get me wrong—I’m happy to be here. I’m so glad you agreed to have dinner with me. But I guess owning up to your shit is never easy. No matter how much you want to. And Idowant to. That’s what I’m here to do. I want to tell you how sorry I am about not reaching out to you sooner. And for being angry.”
Niles hasn’t even come back with drinks yet and we’re already diving into the deep end. It feels nice, though. I’m tired of putting up a facade.
“I was angry, too. I still am a little bit,” I admit. “Not at you, necessarily, but at the situation. And, yeah, partly at you.”
He shrugs. “That’s okay. Hopefully, we’ll spend enough time with each other that we can sort through all of it. Because I don’t want this to be our last dinner. I don’t want to go another ten years without seeing you.”
I lay the candy on the counter and grab his hand, holding it loosely in mine. “Then we won’t.”
He smiles and we sit down at the island.
It becomes clear very quickly that I spent all day worrying about nothing. My dad isn’t here to judge the house or my hosting abilities. He isn’t nitpicking and looking for cracks in my story. He is here to get to know me. To make things right.
He even tries to make things right between me and my mom. “I’m not saying you should forgive her, but I think you should understand her,” he says at one point.
He tells me about her life growing up. The reason she was so good at living on the streets is because she’d done it before. Her entire childhood was in constant flux. No stable house, no guaranteed meals, no one to depend on.
“When you and your mom left, things weren’t great for me at work. We were struggling financially. It wasn’t anything too serious, but even the whisper of problems sent your mom spiraling. I’m not surprised she ended up running to Alexander. All she wanted was stability.”
“Financial stability,” I clarify. “Because that man is not mentally stable. I don’t think Mom is anymore, either.”
I tell him about the last few weeks and what Mom and Alexander tried to do to me. I cry and he looks murderous, but we talk each other down. Then, somehow, we start laughing.
The conversation ebbs and flows effortlessly. We reminisce on good memories, talk about the hard times, and, best of all, talk about absolutely nothing. The weather, television, our favorite music. We talk until I forget why I was nervous in the first place.
When he’s done with the apple turnover Niles made for dessert, my dad sits back and smiles. “You seem really happy here, Cora.”
I can’t help but smile back. “I am happy. I’m… I’m in love.”
I haven’t fully admitted it to Ivan yet. Not in the exact words. But he knows.
“He loves you, too. The way the two of you are with each other… Well, anyone can see how you feel. I’m glad you’ve found someone.”
A new wave of tears threatens to flow—who knew one person could be this happy?—when I hear the front door open.
I glance at the clock. “Wow. I didn’t realize it was already after ten.” Ivan told me he’d make himself scarce until my dad was gone, but he probably didn’t think our dinner would go this long.
“It’s a lot later than I thought.” He stands up and stretches. “I should get going and let you get to bed.”
“Or you could stay for a few more minutes? Ivan is here. Maybe we can all… talk?”
Like a real family, I think.
I know one night is not enough to fix everything, but it’s a good start. And Ivan is the one who pushed me to even being open to this idea in the first place. I want him and my dad to get along.
