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CHAPTER 1
BACK THEN – HIGH SCHOOL
EVELYN
It’s funny how you can drive four hours and feel like you’ve entered an entirely different world. I’m always a little disoriented when I go from my mom’s house in Spokane, the one she shares with my stepfather and his children, to my dad’s house in Seattle. It’s not only the change in location, but the change in atmosphere.
Everything about Mom’s house is comfortable and homey. It’s lived in. It’s one of those places where you walk in and feel the love.
Dad’s place is the opposite in so many ways. You would think a man who has been a bachelor for the last ten years would have a man-cave like space, but nothing is further from the truth. You won’t find sports memorabilia, neon signs, or reclaimed manly wood anywhere. My dad’s place is austere minimalism which makes me feel like I can’t touch anything.
The only bright spot is that he’s never had a problem with me decorating my room however I want. It’s a relief because if I had to keep up with the sharp lines and monochromatic white color pallet of the rest of the house, I’m pretty sure I would tear my hair out. I’m halfway tempted to Jackson Pollack my walls with neon paint just to rebel against how clean and stark the rest of the house is. It’s not even my style, but I’ve daydreamed about it more than once.
The strangest part is that my dad isn’t a cold person. I don’t understand why his house doesn’t ever feel lived in. Maybe it’s the kind of house expected of him because he’s a very successful lawyer in Seattle and he gave into that.
I’m looking forward to seeing Dad, but not being back in his house. I like my school in Seattle, for the most part, and I have friends around. I’ve always liked having a little more room and a little more freedom in Seattle than I do in Spokane.
I didn’t grow up in Spokane, but that’s where Mom moved when she got remarried. Since Allan has his own kids, I do feel like an outsider there. It’s not something I have to worry about being with Dad. Hell, I’ve never even met a woman he’s dated.
Dad being busy, which means I am on my own a lot, works for me when I’m in school. It means I can focus on what I need to, and my grades are very important to me. I have dreams and going to college are part of them.
Being a nurse might not be as glamorous as being a lawyer, but Dad has never made me feel like I’m not reaching far enough. I appreciate how proud he is of me when it comes to academics. I’m glad Mom never seemed to have a problem with me staying with Dad the majority of the year instead of being in school in Spokane.
I pull up outside Dad’s house and I swear it’s whiter than it was the last time I saw it. I suppose he could have had it painted, but I think it’s probably just an optical illusion. It’s so stark in comparison to Mom’s house and I always have a problem making the transition back.
While parking I mentally prepare myself and grab my suitcase after getting out of my car. I got it on my 16thbirthday, and I was grateful because it meant I found a little freedom when I needed it the most. It’s been awkward between Mom and Dad since they divorced, and they always played at being okay with each other.
I knew differently though, and it always made me feel a certain way. I wanted to avoid it, but I couldn’t before because of their agreement and my need to go from one place to the other. My car means I’m the only one going from place to place.
To say it’s been a relief is an understatement.
When I move to the door, hauling my suitcase along with me, my dad swings it open before I can make it to the top step. He has a huge smile on his face, which isn’t unusual, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. There’s something like worry in his expression and it instantly puts me on edge.
What does he have to be worried about?
I’m engulfed in his arms before I can think about it too long. “I missed you, duckling,” he sounds a little choked up and I can’t help but melt into him.
I might not like my dad’s house, but I love the man. He’s a good father and my mom is pretty awesome as well. They just weren’t great together. Would it make my life easier if they had stayed together? Yeah, but only if they were happy.
“Missed you too, Dad.” I tease him, “Did you do anything other than work this summer?”
He gives me a sheepish smile as he lets me go and grabs my suitcase. I don’t normally take everything with me from one place to the other. Why would I? I don’t need much during the summer and Mom has clothes for me at her house. I take my favorites because I can’t be without them, but it’s pretty low maintenance in Spokane and I’m okay with that.
“I’ll take your suitcase up to your room.” It’s obvious he’s ignoring my question, and it worries me. “Then I’d like to talk to you about something important.”
I find myself nodding as butterflied fill my belly and I whisper, “Okay.”
My mind is whirling because I have no idea what he wants to talk to me about. If he didn’t want me to come back, I would think he’d say something before I made the drive. I’m supposed to start my senior year in a few days.
I want to scream at him to tell me what’s going on, but I don’t. I’ve never been the kind of person to scream or make demands. It’s just not part of who I am. Maybe it’s because of the divorce? I’m sure a therapist somewhere would say I’m a people pleaser because of the trauma of it all.
Maybe they’d have a point, but that doesn’t change anything for me right now.
On top of whatever Dad wants to talk about, I’m anxious about senior year and then what happens after I graduate. I’m panting for breath when I get to the top of the stairs. Worrying is partially to blame for part, but I’m also not in the best shape. I’m more than a little curvy and right over that line into plus size.
Exercise isn’t something I’m interested in, never have been, but I like myself. Most people like me too. There are only a few exceptions, and those people don’t really matter to me. Although, they sometimes get under my skin.
Once Dad puts my suitcase down, he kisses my forehead and blurts, “Get settled back in and then come down when you’re done.”
