by Mona Kasten
Chapter 29
I’d already been sitting for an hour at the bar at Woodshill Steakhouse. I was there to meet my dad, but had actually come with Sawyer at the start of her shift so we could talk.
My work on About Us was moving along pretty well, though I was far from close to finishing it. I was pretty sure it would be my first real novel. The story had so many layers to discover, layers that I wanted to reveal. I was working out so many of my feelings about Spencer and me through the book, and I needed more time to find the right words.
“Hey, I think that’s your old man there.”
Turning around on the barstool, I looked toward the entrance. An elderly man with a cane was coming in the door. He looked to be about eighty.
“You’ve been saying that for an hour, every time a man comes in. It’s not funny anymore.”
She just shrugged, grinned and polished another glass. Though she tried not to show it, I could tell she wasn’t completely happy with this job. Sawyer was the kind of person who preferred spending most of her day outside. Given the choice, she’d rather roam around with her camera and photograph whatever passed in front of her lens. Working in the restaurant was just temporary.
She didn’t tell me exactly what was going on, but I knew she needed the money. If I could make her workday a bit better by keeping her company, even if she annoyed me, then I was happy to help.
“But that’s got to be him, right?” Sawyer asked, and I rolled my eyes.
“Haha, Sawyer.”
“Honey!”
I turned and beamed at Dad, who approached with his arms outstretched. Love was obviously doing him good. He looked younger and was wearing jeans and a flattering wool sweater.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, throwing my arms around him. Then I backed up and held him at arms’ length, looking him up and down. “You look great.”
“I took your advice and left my overalls at home today. Shall we?” He nodded toward the bench by the window.
“First, I want to introduce you to someone,” I said. “Dad, this is Sawyer, my roommate. Sawyer, this is my dad, Stanley.”
“Ah! I’ve heard so much about you.” Dad shook Sawyer’s hand firmly. “Nice to finally put a face to your name.”
Sawyer blinked. “Oh… um, same here.”
Dad smiled and led us to our table. I went to follow him but Sawyer held on to my wrist.
“You told your dad about me?”
I frowned. “Of course. I tell him about all my friends.”
She frowned and released my arm. “Aha.”
“What did you think?” I asked.
She shook her head and turned around. It occurred to me that she might never have met the parents of a friend before. We’d have to talk about that some time.
Over the next hour, as Dad and I ate our steaks, I pumped him for information about Maureen and he returned the favor by asking me about Everly. Meeting with my dad was great, especially if he was feeling happy.
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened last week,” he eventually said.
“Hm?” I was chewing my last piece of steak, savoring my final moments in carnivore heaven.
“I’m talking about Nathaniel, honey.”
The meat turned to sawdust in my mouth. I gulped it down and chased it with lemonade. “I overreacted, Dad. I really didn’t mean to embarrass you, but…”
“What?” He frowned. “You didn’t embarrass me. It’s completely understandable that you’d be upset to see your ex-husband with another woman.”
The word “husband” made me flinch. “Dad, I think… I have to tell you something.”
He set his cutlery down and looked at me, worried.
I hadn’t planned to have this conversation just now, and I didn’t know how to start.
“You’re scaring me, Dawny. Spit it out,” Dad insisted.
“The reason why Nate and I split up… is not that we grew apart,” I began softly.
“What was it?”
I cleared my throat. “Nate… kind of… cheated on me.”
Dad opened his mouth. Closed it again. All kinds of emotions ran across his face, but what he seemed to settle on was confusion.
“Excuse me?”
I took a deep breath and searched for the courage I’d need to make it through this conversation.
“He cheated on me with Rebecca,” I finally blurted out. My heart was pounding and my hands had grown damp.
“What?” Dad’s voice was deadly low.
Reaching over the table, I took his hands. The roughness of his skin felt so familiar. Like home.
“It happened over a long period of time. He was cheating on me for months.”
Dad’s eyes were throwing sparks. Suddenly he stood and his thighs hit the table, making our glasses wobble dangerously. Then he came around the table and sat down next to me on the bench. He took me in his arms.
“I’m so sorry, Dad,” I whispered and buried my face in his shoulder. “I didn’t want you to worry. That’s why I pretended everything was okay. But seeing Nate and Rebecca in the restaurant… that kind of brought it all back. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
He was silent and just held me. The hug was a year too late but it still felt just right. Like closure. Warm tears flowed down my cheeks.
“I’m going to kill him,” Dad said after a pause. “I’m gonna give him a beating. And then I’ll stretch him out on the workbench.”
“Please don’t,” I said with a weak laugh. “I don’t want this to affect your friendship with Sherman and Elena.”
The furrows on his brow were back, deeper than before. “That’s why you didn’t tell me?”
“I know you, Dad. I knew how you’d react and I didn’t want to jeopardize your friendships. Besides, I wanted to be strong. I didn’t want anybody to know how much he hurt me. I’m an Edwards, after all.”
“Dawn, you should have told me much sooner,” he said earnestly. “You’re my daughter. My family. That’s much more important than friendship.”
More tears burned in my eyes, but I blinked them away.
“I’ve spent the past year being nice to that little shithead because I thought that you just… I’ve been polite and friendly to him even though he did this to you,” my father growled, his face distorted with rage. “If he ever crosses my path again, I can’t guarantee…”
“Don’t hurt him, Dad.”
“Anyone who does something like that to my daughter deserves to feel pain,” he replied, unmoved.
“No,” I said firmly. “I wanted to tell you so that you know everything and so I can be finished with this whole thing. I don’t want any more drama. Please, Dad.”
He looked at me searchingly. “You’ve had months to process this. But for me, it just happened.”
It was true. I’d given him a shock and now had to give him time to cool down. But I had an idea of how we could speed up this process.
The sun shone and sparkled on the lake. Birdsong echoed in the valley and in the distance there were a few isolated boats on the water with fishing rods sticking out of them.
“I was wondering how you dealt so well with the breakup. So sensible with the divorce. Now I feel like an idiot,” Dad said.
Arm in arm, we were walking along the sandy trail that circled the lake.
“I should have known, seen it in your eyes or something. A mother would have known,” he grumbled.
“Bullshit, Dad, and you know it.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t’ve let you guys get married so young.”
Now I stopped and grabbed his arm tighter. “Stop trying to convince yourself that you made mistakes in raising me.”
“Parents are always second guessing themselves. It’s the same for Maureen,” he replied, with a hint of a smile.
“Th
en both of you: Stop it. Everly and I are proof that you did a good job. Neither of us is perfect, but that’s definitely not due to bad parenting. It’s called being human and we just have to learn some things for ourselves.”
Dad nodded, thoughtful, and we continued making our way around the lake. The sun felt glorious on my skin and I looked up toward the sky.
“So, Dawny, what are your plans now?”
Before I could answer, my attention was distracted by footsteps behind me. I turned, and…
The jogger was at least 50 yards from us but I recognized the gait immediately.
Of course. Dad asks me about my plans and seconds later Spencer enters, stage left.
He was wearing a pair of running shorts; his pace was even and fast. I raised my arm when he was still 20 yards away. He tipped his head to the side and shaded his eyes with one hand. When he saw me, his face brightened with a grin. He sprinted up to us and jogged in place.
“Mr. Edwards, how nice to see you.” Spencer gave a little bow, which looked pretty odd from a bouncing guy, and then turned to me. Immediately his smile disappeared and he stood still. “Why are your eyes so red?” He came closer to me and put his hands on my shoulders. “Were you crying?”
He was breathless and sweating, but who cared! I wrapped my arms around his waist and held him. “I finally told him.”
Spencer hesitated for a second, then returned my embrace, even lifting me off the ground. “I’m so proud of you.”
My heart practically glowed.
He set me down again. Then he pinched a corner of his damp shirt and sniffed at it. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t prepared for a meeting with my future father-in-law. Mr. Edwards, you look really great, by the way. Even if I miss the overalls. To me, they always give you an ‘I am a skilled craftsman’ kind of air.” Spencer grinned. Then he turned back to me. “I have to run a couple more miles. See you tomorrow at Kaden and Allie’s?”
All I could do was nod. Spencer hesitated for a second, then kissed my temple, somewhere between forehead and hairline. The next moment he was back on the jogging trail. He looked back over his shoulder again and raised his hand. I waved back faintly.
“I take it this clown is part of your future plans?” Dad asked.
I hooked my arm back in his and watched Spencer disappear ahead of us. “I don’t do future plans anymore, Dad. I’m going to take each day as it comes.”
Chapter 30
“I have to tell you something.”
Allie and Scott looked up.
We were on the floor of my room, cramming for an upcoming exam.
Opening up to Dad had triggered something in me. It felt like the bindings around me had finally loosened. I could breathe again. The uneasy feeling I had every time the subject of Nate came up was gone. Finally, Dad understood me.
Now it was my friends’ turn. It was incredibly hard for me to take this step, but they deserved to know about my writing. Sawyer and Spencer already knew anyway. And their reactions had been better than I could have wished.
“You can’t open with that and then look off into the distance,” Scott broke into my trance, with an expectant look.
“Sorry.” I’d started to feel warm, and my stomach was growling. Nerves.
“Going by your expression, it’s something bad,” Allie said, sliding closer to me on the floor. She put a hand on my leg. “You can tell us anything, Dawn. You know that, right?”
“Of course. But that doesn’t make it easier. I… just don’t know how to start. Probably the best thing to do is to show you.”
I grabbed Watson and flipped up the screen.
“Don’t tell us you made porn,” Allie said.
“I don’t know if I’d be more proud or turned off,” Scott said.
“Maybe it’s just naked photos,” Allie mused.
These goofballs.
I entered “D. Lily” in the search bar and waited briefly for the results. The covers of my books appeared, and I lifted the laptop so my friends could see them.
“Recommended reading?” Scott asked.
“Only if you want to. You don’t have to, of course, if it’s not your thing.”
Allie pulled the laptop a bit closer and scrolled down. Frowning in concentration, she skimmed a few blurbs.
“D. Lily was born in Oregon and has been writing since her childhood. Her first love was literature and she’s seldom without a book in hand. She has a weakness for boy bands, sexy romance novels, and fried food.” My friend looked up at me. “You love boy bands.”
“Indeed I do.”
“And fried food,” Scott said.
I nodded.
“And your bookshelf is chock full of romance novels.” Allie angled her chin toward the shelf next to my desk.
Again, I nodded slowly. My heart was in my throat.
“D. Lily… is you.” Allie’s face was glowing. “Oh my God, Dawn!” She tipped over, burying her face in the side of my leg.
Okay. That wasn’t so bad.
“That is so cool, really, Dawn,” Scott said, stunned. He lifted Watson onto his lap and leaned back against my bed. “They’ve all got good reviews.”
Allie sat up. “God, why didn’t I think of that before?”
“There’s even one that’s about two guys!” Scott lifted up the laptop and turned it so Allie and I could see the cover of Deep Within.
“That was my first all-male project.” I laughed cautiously.
“You see! And you’re always telling me to shut up about my sex life. I’m actually the inspiration for a writer, Allie.”
That’s not how I would have put it, but it was definitely good to hear that Scott approved.
“I want to read all of them. Every single one. I don’t even know where to begin,” Allie cried. “I like this cover,” she said, pointing to Hot for You. “I’ve always wanted to get an e-reader. Which is the best one? Are your books available on all models, or do I need a specific one? Where should I start, Dawn? Can they be read in any order?”
Allie’s flood of questions came so fast and furious that it was hard to follow them.
“I…” My voice still sounded husky. I cleared my throat, but the lump in there didn’t go away.
“Dawn?” Scott’s voice was soft.
I looked between my friends and then stared at the floor, trying to hold back my tears. “I was so afraid to tell you about it,” I finally blurted out, blinking hard.
“But why?” Allie asked and slid closer to me.
“Because… I thought you might be embarrassed for me. I love writing so much and people gave me so much grief about reading these kinds of stories that I panicked. After we all met, things changed: the way you guys treated me felt good, and I didn’t want to spoil that by letting my secret out.”
Allie hugged me close. “I can totally understand your fear. That’s how it was for me, too, before I told you about what had happened with… Anderson. But you don’t have to be afraid anymore. I think Scott would agree with me that it’s pretty damn cool to have a real author as a friend.”
The first tears finally escaped out of the corners of my eyes.
Scott slid over to us and put an arm around my other shoulder. “What Allie said.”
Laughing, I clasped Allie’s arms and lay my head on Scott’s shoulder. And we stayed that way, closely entwined, until our bottoms were sore and my tears were gone.
Then Allie grabbed my laptop again.
“You once told me that you’d like to earn a living from writing, but you didn’t say you’d already been doing it for a long time,” she said, shaking her head. “Dawn, this is amazing.”
“I earn a little from it, but it’s far from enough to pay for college. Without Dad, I’d be screwed.”
“Why are you writing under a pseudonym?” Scott asked.
“Nate didn’t want my real name to be associated with stories like that.” Scott stiffened and Allie looked up from the laptop. “Yeah, I know. But in the meantime I’m actually glad I have a pseudonym. It lets me feel free as a writer, and gives me the chance to use my real name in another genre.”
“That makes sense. Are you going to keep self-publishing, or do you want to apply to an agency or publisher?” Scott asked.
The very idea of having a real publisher seemed like an impossible dream.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“You shouldn’t hide. It’s absolutely unnecessary.”
“Thanks, Scott.”
“Don’t thank me yet. If you really want to do this professionally and have a career in this field, we can help you. Kaden is an expert in programming and graphic design; he can put together a professional homepage and help you with marketing. And I can help you with writing applications to publishers, if you want.”
Trying to imagine walking through a store and seeing books with my name on them, I felt a tingling sensation run through me, along with a wave of nausea. To show my name and face in public, on the Internet, would make me a potential target. After my last bad review, Spencer had had to boost my ego.
“I’m not ready to go that far yet. It already took a lot out of me just to tell you about it,” I answered hesitantly.
“That’s understandable. I just wanted to offer. You’re not alone, know what I mean?” Scott poked me in the ribs.
I breathed in. More bindings had been removed.
“So, I just ordered an e-reader,” Allie announced festively. “Which one should I read first?”
After Scott and Allie had gone, I went shopping, returning with a huge bag whose contents I spread out on the floor. Sawyer had come home and put one of her LPs on a record player, filling our room with loud rock music. Neither of us spoke as we concentrated on our individual tasks. She sat at her rickety table and sorted through photos of, from what I could see, piles of clothes, while I spread out my craft supplies on the floor.
