by Witt, L. A.
I laughed halfheartedly. “To answer your question . . .” Suddenly that half-assed laugh was a distant memory. “No. It’s not getting any better.”
She frowned. “I’m sorry to hear it.”
I sighed, my shoulders heavy beneath the weight of last night’s breakup and all the shit with my family.
After a long, silent moment, Anna cleared her throat. “You know what? Fuck it.” She reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Bailey’s. “We don’t have to be at the set for another hour.” Holding up the bottle, she raised her eyebrows.
I looked into my coffee cup. Then at her. Oh, to hell with it.
I pushed the cup across the counter. “Fill ’er up.”
* * *
The Bailey’s didn’t help either of us all that much. I really only had enough to give my coffee the faintest taste of alcohol, enough to be more symbolic than intoxicating, so I barely felt it anyway. Still, there was something comforting about communing over a miserable cup of spiked coffee. While we talked about other shit—neither of us wanted to talk about Leigh or my kids right then—we drank it and didn’t give a fuck that it wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning. I didn’t feel any better about my kids or about Scott. I doubted she felt any better about Leigh.
But misery really did love company, didn’t it? The booze and the company didn’t fix a damned thing, but at least we had someone to quietly wallow with. In its own weird way, that helped.
Eventually, we had to go act like professionals, so an hour or so later, I drove her to the set and went through the motions, hoping no one smelled the Bailey’s on my breath or hers.
And if they did . . . eh, who cared?
We both made it through the day, though, and no one commented, so I assumed no one caught the scent. Not surprising, since I hadn’t really had all that much, but paranoia didn’t have to make sense.
At the end of a painfully long day, I took her back to her place. As we were pulling in the drive, Leigh was heading out, her car filled to the gills with more boxes. She didn’t stop. Neither did we.
“You gonna be okay?” I asked.
Anna nodded as she took off her seat belt. “Yeah. This is probably for the best, even if it sucks right now.” She paused. “You want to come in for a drink?”
Yes. Please. And maybe something stronger than Bailey’s-tainted coffee.
I shook my head, though. “I should probably get home. But I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”
We exchanged smiles in the low light. Then she reached across the console and hugged me. “I’m sorry things are so rough with your kids.”
I swallowed the lump suddenly rising in my throat.
The dispensaries are still open, right?
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Leigh,” I whispered. “Even if it’s for the best, I know how much it sucks.”
Nodding, she let me go. “Yeah. I’ll get through it.” Her smile seemed forced. “Have a good night.”
I half expected her to playfully comment about having a good night with Scott, but she didn’t. Maybe she’d read between the lines somehow. Or maybe she didn’t want to think about relationships at all. Either way, I was thankful for the omission.
She got out of the car, and once she’d let herself into the house, I left.
Tempting as it was, I didn’t go to the dispensary. I didn’t drink myself senseless. I did, however, promise myself that next time I didn’t have to worry about working the next day, I would drink . . . smoke . . . anything I could get my hands on. Because holy fuck, I needed some chemical intervention. Badly.
All night long and into the morning, I couldn’t stop thinking about Anna and Leigh. Partly because they were a convenient distraction from the conspicuously empty space beside me in bed. I’d done everything I could to ignore that, and I wasn’t about to quit now.
But that wasn’t the only reason Anna and Leigh were on my mind. There was something deeply unsettling about that relationship finally breaking. Their on-the-brink tension had been the status quo, just like my miserable marriage had been for far too long. The end seemed inevitable, and yet when it finally came—when the tree could no longer bend and finally broke—it had startled me. The break was as jarring as my split from Scott, as if I hadn’t known what would happen or I’d somehow thought it would stay like that—flexed to its limit—forever.
This reminded me of the day that piece of shit Honda I’d driven in college had given up. It had been leaking more fluids than it held for years. Pieces of the body had been held on by Bondo, duct tape, and prayers, and the same could be said for a number of the parts beneath the hood. And yet the day it finally sputtered its last and refused to move again, I’d somehow been genuinely surprised. I hadn’t really believed I could keep driving that dilapidated beast forever, had I?
And had any of us—including the couple themselves—believed Anna and Leigh would salvage their miserable, volatile relationship?
That old car had eventually died.
Anna and Leigh had given up.
So how long could my relationship with my kids bend before it too snapped?
Every time my brain circled back to that question, a cold, fluttery panic burrowed deeper into my stomach.
A mechanic couldn’t save that car and a counselor couldn’t save Anna and Leigh. But did I have a shot at saving what was left of my family?
One thing was clear: staying up here in Bluewater Bay, a thousand miles away from the kids who believed I’d abandoned them, wasn’t going to save my relationship with them. And as long as I was thinking about that, my pounding heart would drown out the echo of the door slamming behind Scott.
By midafternoon, I knew what I had to do, and I pulled Anna aside in between meetings. “Listen, um . . . I know the timing isn’t great, but I need to take off for a couple of days. To LA.”
Her eyebrows jumped. “Everything all right?”
“I don’t know. I . . . I just need to see my kids.”
Anna straightened. “Oh. Well, yeah. Definitely.”
“Are you sure?” It wasn’t her decision to make, but time off for me meant a stranger in my place. As stressed as she was right now, did she need that? “If you’d rather I didn’t, I—”
“Honey, we’re talking about your kids.” She waved her hand as if she were dismissing some annoying producer or intern on the set. “The security firm will send somebody else in to follow me around. Nobody but you is going to fix things with your kids. Go.”
“Are you—”
“Jeremy. Go.”
“Okay, okay. I’ll make the call and let you know.”
“Good.” She smiled, though her eyes were still sad and tired. “And good luck. You and your family really do deserve a break.”
Yeah. Tell me about it.
I waited until Anna was in her next meeting, then called the security firm and asked for a temporary replacement as soon as possible. They weren’t happy about it, especially on such short notice, but they always had a few guys on standby anyway in case of emergency, or if Anna was working long enough hours that someone had to relieve me. So, they relented and agreed to give me the days off.
I hung up, went online on my phone, and booked a red-eye to Los Angeles.
Chapter 21
Even from the plane, it was obvious Southern California was in drought hell. They hadn’t seen nearly enough rain in way too long. Lakes were almost dry. Plants were dying. Water rationing was no joke these days.
Stepping out of the airport was a shock too. Though I’d lived here my whole life, I wasn’t used to the dry air anymore. My sinuses hurt like I was getting—or had just gotten over—a bad cold. The LA smog burned my eyes. Thank God it wasn’t all that hot yet. The smell of melting asphalt wouldn’t have helped my queasy stomach.
Before leaving the airport, I texted Jackie to let her know I’d arrived. Then I rented a car, found my way to the cheap motel, and texted my ex-wife wit
h the address and room number.
And there, I waited for Haley.
“She’d rather come to you,” Jackie had said last night. “So she doesn’t feel like she has to stay.”
Fair enough. I just prayed like hell she didn’t want to leave the second she walked through the door. I wasn’t terribly optimistic—Haley wasn’t even here yet, and she probably already wanted to leave.
Just hear me out, honey. Please.
I passed the time watching TV. Playing on my phone. Staring at the ceiling.
And, of course, rehearsing things I might say. I didn’t know why I bothered. Everything I’d ever thought to say to her had backfired. The longer this went on and the angrier she got, the worse it was.
I rubbed my tired eyes. I refused to believe this was hopeless, but I was struggling to hold on to any hope these days.
Eventually, a light knock on the door brought me up off the bed and onto my feet.
Well. Here goes.
I took a deep breath and turned the dead bolt. As I opened the door, my heart thumped against my ribs.
My daughter glared across the threshold at me. Then she brushed past me, muttering something about getting this shit over with.
I closed the door and stepped away from it without locking it. I sat on the foot of one bed while she stood near the ancient TV.
“So you wanted—” Her gaze darted to some small, wrapped boxes on top of my suitcase with a couple of cards. “Gifts? Again?” She narrowed her eyes at me. “You’re not going to buy me off, Dad.”
“I’m not trying to buy you off. But I . . .” I glanced at the gifts, then at her. “When I used to travel before, I always brought something back for you and your brother. I guess I still do.”
She winced—subtly, but unmistakably—and folded her arms across her Linkin Park T-shirt.
“There’s um . . .” I cleared my throat. “There’s also something there for your graduation.”
The wince wasn’t nearly as subtle this time.
“I’m sorry I—” I stopped before I said I was sorry I wouldn’t make it to commencement. She didn’t want me there, and this wasn’t about making her feel worse. “Congratulations on graduating soon. I’m proud of you.”
Her lips tightened and the corners twitched. I couldn’t tell if she was fighting tears or a smile, but whatever it was, she didn’t want me to see it.
She took a deep breath. “Can we just do this?”
“Okay.” I shifted a little on the edge of the hard bed. “Look, I just want to talk. One-on-one.”
Her features and her arms tightened. “That’s all we do is talk.”
“Well, maybe we’ve been doing it wrong.”
Gazing skyward, she huffed sharply. “Okay. So what are we supposed to be doing?”
“To be perfectly honest, I don’t know. Kids and divorces don’t come with instruction manuals. I’m . . . I’m flying blind here.”
She laughed dryly. “Yeah, that’s obvious.”
My patience shot to the end of its tether, and I nearly snapped at her, but I reined myself in. As I did, Scott’s words echoed across my frayed nerve endings.
“She needs to be heard. Even if what she says can’t change anything, she needs to know you care about what she says.”
Speaking gently, I said, “Haley, I love you. I want to fix this, but I don’t know how. Tell me what it is you want me to do.”
“There isn’t anything you can do,” she snapped. “You were selfish, so you abandoned Mom and you left us to—”
“I didn’t abandon you. Mom and I realized we—”
“Really?” She narrowed her eyes. “You were the one who decided you’d rather be gay than stay with—”
“This is who I am, Haley. I’m sorry. I . . . If there’d been any way we could’ve made it work, we would have.”
“Maybe you should’ve tried harder, then.”
Anger surged in my chest, but I tamped it down. As calmly as I could, I asked, “What could we have done differently?” I paused. “What could I have done?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Stay with Mom. Jesus, Dad. You can’t just half-ass a family. You don’t get to do things halfway, and then run off because you suddenly like guys.”
I sighed. “Haley, it wasn’t like that. I’ve always been gay. I’ve told you this. I was just . . . I was in denial. And your mother and I, we tried to stay together for you kids, but all we were doing was making ourselves and the two of you miserable.” I swallowed hard to keep my voice steady as the shame tried to overwhelm me. “We tried, but we . . . it just didn’t work.”
She folded her arms tightly again, and refused to look at me.
“Haley, we—”
“I miss my dad, okay?” Her voice threatened to crack, and she cleared her throat. “Because my dad would never just disappear because he likes guys better than he likes us.”
My heart hit the floor. “Is that what you think? That I like guys better than you and—”
“You left us and Mom so you could be with guys. What am I supposed to think?”
“Honey, I couldn’t be what your mother deserved. So I—”
“Don’t even try to blame this on her.”
“I’m not blaming anything on her. I want her to be happy. I’ve always wanted her to be happy. And I couldn’t make her happy. The longer I stayed married to her, the more miserable and lonely she was getting. I mean, look how much happier she is with Brian.”
“What?” Haley rolled her eyes and snorted derisively. “Happier? Are you kidding me?”
“Wait, what? Is there something—”
“Brian’s just some guy, Dad.” She leaned hard against the TV stand. “And we’re not talking about him. We’re talking about you, because you’re the one who left Mom to raise us while you—”
“We tried joint custody, Haley,” I snapped. “You and your brother both wanted to stay with Mom full-time. Was I supposed to—”
“And you ran off to Washington, so what the fuck do you care?”
The fury in her tone startled me. “Ran off? My job sent me to—”
“And I’ll bet you thought about it real hard before you took it, didn’t you?”
I couldn’t look her in the eye. She had me dead to rights—when the offer came through for a job in a remote corner of Washington state, I’d taken it without hesitation. I was ashamed of the breathing room I’d thought I needed, and for believing they needed space from me.
“Haley, I’m—”
“I miss my dad, but my dad never would’ve walked away from us like that. Do you have any idea how hard it’s been for Mom?”
“Yes, I do.” I paused. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for her to be married to me when she knew I wanted to be with someone else?”
“See? It’s all about what you want. Mom was miserable because you wanted to be with someone else, you selfish asshole.”
I started to speak, but held back. A few years ago, I’d have jumped on her for talking to me like that, and for her language, but she’d been too angry for too long. I wasn’t a parent in her eyes anymore. I was someone who’d hurt her, hurt her mother, and hurt her brother. We needed to get all this out in the open and make some sense of it. The rest would follow.
I slowly pulled in a breath and kept my voice as calm as possible. “What will it take for you to give me a chance, Haley? You’ve been closed off since the day we told you we were splitting up, and no matter what I do, you refuse to give me a—”
“Then maybe that should tell you something,” she spat. “Quit acting like we owe you anything.”
“You don’t owe—”
“You’re the reason we were all miserable for years, Dad. You. And you and Mom both have this fantasy about us being a nice happy family right up until the last couple of years, but you’re both full of shit if you think we believe that.”
My lungs turned to lead. “What . . . what are you talking about?”
“Do you think we’re stupid?
” she snarled. “You don’t think Zach and I heard you and Mom arguing in your bedroom and trying to be all quiet about it? I mean, really. Do you think we didn’t notice?”
I struggled to find any air. “I . . .”
“Do you have any idea what that was like?” Her voice wavered, but the rage almost masked it. “Knowing everything was going to shit with you and Mom, listening to you guys fight and knowing damn well every time you put on a happy face it was fucking fake?” Through clenched teeth, she added, “And then you tell us all of that is because you’re gay?” She threw up her hands. “If you really give two shits about any of us being happy—us or Mom—why the fuck didn’t you just leave and get it over with?”
I stared at her, unable to speak. Jackie and I had tried our damnedest to convince the kids we were fine. I’d had no idea. God, how much hell had we put them through without even knowing it?
“Haley, I am so—”
“I don’t want to hear it. You’d been apologizing ever since you left, but I believe that about as much as I believe you and Mom had it together when I was a kid. If you were going to abandon us sooner or later, couldn’t you have just done it without lying to all of us for so long?”
The words kicked the breath right out of my chest, but somehow, I managed to whisper, “We weren’t trying to—”
“Whatever. You lied, and you left, and all you can say now is you want to be my dad again. You know what? Fuck you, Dad.”
I was too stunned to even get angry with her for cursing at me. Too dumbstruck to say a goddamned word.
Haley, however, was articulate enough for both of us. “And yes, for your information, I do want my dad back. But I want the dad I thought I had up until the divorce. You?” She wrinkled her nose. “No thanks.”
And with that, she turned on her heel. Before I could stop her, she yanked open the door, letting in the blinding SoCal sun. A second later, the door slammed behind her, and wasn’t that a sound I’d gotten a little too used to hearing lately?
