by T. K. Leigh
He parts his lips, but words don’t come right away. I furrow my brow. I can’t remember a time my father didn’t have an opinion about something. When he held anything back. When he struggled to find the right words.
Then I notice tears forming in the corners of his eyes as he looks at me. I mean, really looks at me. Really sees me. There’s not so much as a hint of disappointment in his gaze. Only sorrow. And regret.
“Is this true?” His low voice quivers, barely able to get his question out. It’s a stark contrast to the man who always seemed so confident, who never cared much for people’s feelings. At least not my feelings.
I nod slightly.
He slumps onto the couch, burying his head in his hands. I’m not sure what to make of this. Over the years, I’ve learned to remain guarded around this man, concerned he’d take advantage of any weakness. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think this person were an imposter, his demeanor not resembling the man I thought to be my father.
He lifts his weary eyes to mine. He’s always had a youthful appearance, and I’ve often heard some of the other students at the university refer to him as a “silver fox”. But now, he looks to have aged immensely.
“You really did all these things just to keep the truth from me?”
I could sugarcoat it to protect his feelings, but he never did that with me. I’m trying to move on, trying to start over. I can’t keep lying.
“You already had such a low opinion of me. I figured the truth wouldn’t change that. It would probably only make it worse.”
He hangs his head again, pinching the bridge of his nose. I don’t move, simply observing him, trying to figure out the game he’s playing. Then a sob cuts through the stillness of my minuscule apartment.
“God, Chloe…” He briefly looks to the ceiling. “What have I done?”
I remain silent, unsure how to answer that. Unsure I can answer that.
“I should have paid more attention to your mother. To you. I was so focused on fighting for a cause I believed in…” His eyes lock on mine. “When I should have been fighting for you. For your mother. For my family. How could I…” He draws in a deep breath. “How could I have been so blind?”
“We’re all blind to things we’re not equipped to deal with.” I lower myself to the couch. I can’t remember the last time I sat beside this man. I can’t remember the last time we’ve talked without him belittling me.
“That sounds like something your mother would say.” He laughs slightly, swiping at his tears before his expression turns serious. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for this. I certainly wouldn’t. I’ve been a horrible dad. When I was growing up, my father was always working, always pushed us to achieve more. Not that it’s any excuse for how I treated you, but it’s all I knew. And your poor mother…” He trails off as he looks into the distance.
“I was the one who begged to have a family with her, even though I knew how much she loved her career. Hell, we met at a rally in support of the Equal Rights Amendment. She was a firecracker back then, even though she was only a college freshman. I should have known she wouldn’t be happy at home with kids. But I ignored her, too.”
He grabs my hands in his, his grip firm. I peer at them, the feel of my father’s skin against mine odd.
“I’m begging you to give me a chance to show you I can be a better person. To make up for…this.” Dropping his hold on me, he lifts the magazine that’s open to my article. His eyes skate over the words on the page… My words. “All of it. You never should have…” His voice catches and he swallows, squeezing his eyes shut. “You never should have had to go through this. To do these things.”
Absorbing his heartfelt plea, I look away from him, drawing in a deep breath as I collect my thoughts. I never anticipated my father would show up on my doorstep, let alone apologize. If anything, I figured he’d chew me out for publicizing private matters, as ironic as that sounds for a lawyer who fights to ensure the public has access to important information.
I don’t have to forgive him. Don’t even have to give him a chance. But one of the things they talk about in the Al-Anon meetings I’ve made a point to attend is letting go and moving forward. Of accepting the things life has thrown at us and growing from those experiences.
When I look back at him, I respond the only way that makes sense. “I think I did.”
His brows furrow. “Wha—”
“I think I did have to go through all of this.” I wrap my fingers around his hand, squeezing reassuringly. “My past has shaped me into the person I am today. For the first time in my life, I like this person. That may have been a different story a few weeks ago, but I’m learning how to accept things and learn from them. If I didn’t go through everything I did, I would never have written this.” I grab the magazine out of his hands, holding it up. “I may never have seen my name in Time. Time! That’s just… I don’t even have the words.”
He smiles, then wraps his arm around me, pulling me against him. I thought it would feel awkward, but it doesn’t. I inhale, the familiar spicy scent reminding me of my childhood. “I think you would have found your way there eventually, sweetie.” He kisses the top of my head.
“Thanks… Dad.”
We have a long way to go to bury the past, and some days will be harder than others, just like with my mother. But it’s nice to know he finally realizes his approach to parenting has been anything but healthy.
“I just want you to promise me something,” I say, pulling out of his embrace.
“Anything.”
I pinch my lips together, pausing. “Stop working so much and get to know Midge. She’s a really great kid.”
A smile covers his mouth, his eyes sparkling. “I can do that.”
“And if she doesn’t want to ride a horse, or learn archery, or do fencing, or any of the other ridiculously snooty sports you signed me up for, listen to her. Kids should be able to kick a ball up and down a field instead of stab a sword into their opponent.”
“You got it. No snooty sports.”
“Good.”
“Good.” It’s silent for a moment before he speaks again. “I’m sorry for what I said to you the last time I saw you. The night—”
“It’s okay. Like you said, it never would have worked. He would have always been my professor. He would have had to sacrifice too much to be with me.”
He pulls me against him again, holding me like a father who really loves his daughter. Deep down, he probably always has, but just showed it in a…different way.
“If he’s smart, he’ll sacrifice it all. Just like I should have years ago.”
Chapter Forty-Five
I lean my forearms against the railing of my ocean-front room, inhaling the fragrant Hawaiian air, the crash of waves sounding from mere yards away. A breeze picks up, blowing my hair in front of my face, and I relax, exhaling a satisfied sigh.
This is exactly what I needed. Fresh air. Ocean waves. Stunning scenery. I can’t remember the last time I’ve taken a day off to enjoy myself. Now I have ten days to myself, having been ordered by my boss not to pick up my phone or answer an email until I’m back in the office. I’m not sure what to do with all this free time.
A knock on the door interrupts my moment of serenity, and I tear my attention away from a few well-built surfers, their glistening bodies bobbing up and down as they wait to catch a wave. I retreat into my home, leaving the sliding glass doors open to allow the ocean air inside.
When I pull back the door to my room, I’m instantly assaulted by an excited Nora, who practically tackles me to the floor. “You’re here! This is really happening, isn’t it?”
I hug her back, laughing. When I first landed at the airport less than an hour ago, I wondered if this was a mistake, if I would have been better off staying in New York a little longer. The entire baggage claim area seemed to be filled with couples on their honeymoon, fingers intertwined, a sparkle in their eyes as they struggled to keep their hands off each
other.
But seeing Nora, being here for her, spending time with her, is more important than any longing or heartache I feel at the thought of wishing Lincoln were here with me. As I’d reminded myself time and again these past few weeks, he never would have been able to be here with me. Never would have been able to hold my hand in baggage claim. Never would have been able to kiss me as we watched one of the most magnificent sunsets in existence.
This is for the best.
Pulling out of her embrace, I glance from her to Jeremy. They’ve only been here a day, yet he looks like he’s been on the island for a while. He’s already acclimated to the tropical attire, wearing a neutral Hawaiian shirt with khaki shorts. His skin is sun-kissed, his sandy hair a little lighter at the ends.
“It is,” I answer. “Unless one of you gets cold feet within the next few days.”
“Not a chance in hell.” Nora wraps her arm around Jeremy’s waist, pulling him against her. She meets his eyes. “You’re stuck with me.”
“Sounds good to me, babe.” He kisses her nose. Such a simple gesture, but it has me sighing.
“We’ll let you get all settled. We’re off to meet with our wedding coordinator anyway, but I wanted to stop by and say hi.”
“Do you want me to come and help?” I ask, feeling like I’ve been a shitty maid of honor lately. Thankfully, Evie picked up the slack, considering she worked as a wedding planning assistant prior to getting the job at the magazine.
“You take it easy this afternoon. Go relax on the beach. Check out the local…flavor.” She waggles her brows.
“I already have.” I gesture toward the balcony. “This is certainly a room with a view.” I force a smile, since that’s something pre-Lincoln Chloe would do.
“Good.” She grins, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. I know she wishes the past several months had a different outcome, too, despite the fact I kept her in the dark until it all fell apart. Then she pulls a piece of cardstock from her purse, handing it to me. “Now, here’s our itinerary for the week.”
I grimace. “Itinerary?”
“This island is full of fun activities. Sightseeing. Volcanos. Helicopter rides. Snorkeling. Paddle boarding. Surfing.”
I scan the sheet of paper. “You left out the waterfall picnic lunch,” I jest, reading her plan for Wednesday.
“I know it’s not your idea of a fun vacation, but when are we all going to be in Hawaii together again? We should take advantage of it.”
I exhale, the idea of having to be somewhere at a certain time making my skin crawl. But if this is what Nora wants, I won’t rain on her parade.
“Fine. But only because I love you and want you to have the wedding of your dreams.”
“Thank you.” She beams, then her expression falls. “On that note…” She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, nervously shifting her gaze from me to Jeremy, then back again. “We have a favor to ask.”
“Okay…,” I reply in a drawn-out voice.
“You see… Jeremy’s best man has a…” She looks to him, searching for her words. “Reputation.”
I shift my eyes up to Jeremy’s, hoping for a better explanation.
“He tries to screw anything with a pulse.” He smirks.
“Ah.”
“And since all our guests are spending a lot of money to be here,” Nora continues, “we were hoping you’d—”
“Make sure he keeps his dick in his pants,” I finish.
“More or less. You have a low tolerance for bullshit.”
I squint, vaguely recalling a conversation I’d overheard recently about Jeremy’s supposed best man.
“I thought your best man was no longer able to make the wedding.” I place a hand on my hip, studying them. Their expressions exhibit a hint of nervousness. Nora doesn’t maintain eye contact, looking anywhere but at me, an overly enthusiastic smile on her face. “That his wife, who’s pregnant with twins, was ordered on bed rest so he’s staying with her.”
Jeremy laughs, sheepishly running a hand through his hair. “That’s true.”
“I thought you said you were going to go without one.”
“He was, but…” She trails off.
“But I changed my mind,” Jeremy interjects. “Nora didn’t like the idea of things being uneven.”
“So you added a completely new best man? Why not ask one of your groomsmen?” My suspicions grow, fearing this is a set-up. Nora’s been on my case about meeting someone, thinking it would help me move on. But I have no interest in what I can only imagine is some elaborate scheme to set me up with a guy she thinks is perfect for me. There’s only been one perfect.
“His brothers are his groomsmen. He didn’t want to pick one over another, so he asked a buddy from college.”
I form my lips into a tight line, having trouble believing this story.
“Please, Chloe,” Nora begs, clasping her hands in prayer. “It would mean the world to me if you’d just do this.” She peers at me with those sad puppy-dog eyes I can never say no to.
“Fine,” I huff. “I’ll babysit.” If nothing else, it will allow me a chance to figure out what game Nora and Jeremy are playing.
“Thank you so much.” She wraps her arms around me, squeezing me before releasing her hold. “We have to go. Take it easy. Go soak up some sun. And enjoy the view.” She passes me a devilish grin, then grabs Jeremy’s hand and tugs him down the hallway. “We’ll see you tonight.”
“Wait. Tonight?” I call after them. “What’s tonight?”
“It’s on the itinerary.”
I glance down at the paper in my hand. Dinner with Nora, Jeremy, and this mysterious best man.
Great.
Chapter Forty-Six
I check my reflection one last time, smoothing a few strands of blonde hair behind my ear. I wasn’t quite sure what to wear tonight. I hadn’t exactly packed a dress that screamed emasculation. But since I’m in Hawaii, I figured I may as well attempt to fit in, deciding on a flowing floral sundress.
Content with my appearance, I run a bit more gloss over my lips, then head out, glancing at the blasted itinerary for the location of tonight’s “dinner meeting”, as Nora referred to it.
It takes me a minute to find my way around the large resort, but I eventually locate the waterfront restaurant. When I enter, I’m immersed in a laidback island vibe, the sound of a local trio entertaining the patrons with Hawaiian-style music filling the air. The entire perimeter of the restaurant is windows, apart from the areas where the sliding glass doors are open, allowing the gentle ocean breeze to fill the place.
I float my eyes around the dining room for any sign of Nora or Jeremy, not seeing them anywhere. Normally I’m the one who’s late, not Nora.
I walk to the host stand and a woman, who’s obviously a local, greets me warmly. She’s dressed in a slim-fit floral dress that has an Asian influence, a lone flower pinned in her slick, black hair.
“Aloha, miss. Do you have a reservation?”
“Actually, I’m meeting a few people here. Nora Tremblay and Jeremy Boyd.”
She looks at her computer screen. “Yes. I have their reservation right here. They haven’t arrived yet, and we don’t seat our parties until everyone is present.” She gestures to the open-air bar and lounge to my right. “But if you’d like to have a drink while you wait, the view is beautiful.”
“Thanks.” I consider waiting in the foyer, knowing Nora won’t be too long. But the view undoubtedly is stunning. So I head into the lounge, searching for an empty table, since the bar seems to be full.
“A table just opened up right next to the railing,” a man wearing all black and carrying a tray of empty glasses instructs. “Grab it before someone else does.” He winks, then continues past me.
Shifting my eyes in the direction he indicated, I see a small hightop table and walk toward it. Luckily, I’m able to reach it before anyone else and hoist myself into the chair. A gentle breeze comes off the ocean, and I smooth a few wayward l
ocks behind my ear, listening to the trio play. The sky is an impressive mixture of orange, pink, and red, the hue unlike any I’ve seen. Couples walk hand-in-hand on the white sand, stealing a few kisses as dusk sets in. I can’t help but sigh.
“Maybe one day,” I say to myself.
“Here you go, miss,” a voice cuts through. I tear my eyes to my right to see a petite woman wearing a crisp white shirt and black pants removing a martini from her tray, placing it in front of me.
I furrow my brow. “I haven’t placed my order yet.”
The similarities between this and that night in Vegas aren’t lost on me. But Lincoln’s not here. He’s back in New York. Unless my father has him pulling an all-nighter because of some big deadline, he’s probably sleeping in his bed.
I swallow past the lump in my throat at the thought that another woman may already be in that bed with him.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” the server apologizes. “I’m all mixed up today. Let me go check the ticket, then I’ll be back to take your order.”
She hurries toward the bar, and I look back to the horizon. For a split second, there was a part of me that did think Lincoln was here. But he’d made it more than apparent when I attempted to talk to him at graduation that he wants absolutely nothing to do with me. I can’t blame him. No one deserves to be treated the way I treated him.
“Um… Actually, miss…”
I turn to see the same server approaching with the same martini.
“This is for you. A gentleman saw you walk in and asked the bartender to send it your way.”
“A gentleman?”
I look past her, searching the bar, holding out a twinge of hope that I’d see a familiar silhouette standing there when, in reality, it’s probably just some overweight man wearing a gaudy floral shirt who’s going through a midlife crisis.
Suddenly, her gaze widens and she backs away, leaving the martini.
