Regretting You

by Hoover, Colleen

  He pulls me out of my seat. “You need something light right now. Go watch it, and I’ll bring you food.”

  He holds my hand as we walk out of the theater. He walks me to the showing next door, but before I go in, I kiss him on the cheek. “One of these days, I’m going to be better for you,” I say, squeezing his hand. “I promise.”

  “You’re perfect just how you are, Clara.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m only a nine, apparently.”

  He’s laughing as he backs away from me. “Yeah, but I really only deserve a six.”

  I find a seat far away from all the little kids, all the way at the top. Miller was wrong. I don’t think the cartoon helps, because I can’t stop thinking about what happened.

  It isn’t lost on me that my anger over finding out about my father and Jenny isn’t nearly as intense as it was when I thought my mother and Jonah were the ones having the affair.

  I contemplate that, and I realize it comes down to one thing.

  Selflessness.

  It seems so insignificant, but it’s not. My mother was put through the most maddening, painful, tragic event of her life. Yet, as always, she put me first. Before her anger, her grief, the betrayal. She did everything she could to shield me from the truth, even if that meant unfairly taking the blame.

  I don’t doubt my father’s love for me, but I don’t know that he would have done the same if the tables were reversed. I’m not sure Jenny would have either.

  As devastated as I am to finally know the truth, it actually hurts less than when I thought my mother was the one in the wrong.

  Since the day I was born, every decision she’s ever made for herself was made in order to benefit me. I’ve always known that about her. But I’m not sure I appreciated it until tonight.

  The cartoon has ended and the theater has cleared out, but I’m still staring hard at the blank screen, wondering how my mother is doing. She’s the real victim in all of this, and it makes me sad to know that the two people she’s leaned on for most of her life are the same two people who weren’t there to catch her when she fell. Hell, they’re the ones who made her fall in the first place.

  I can’t imagine all the invisible bruises she’s covered in right now, and I hate that some of them are there because of me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  MORGAN

  I called Jonah after I got home from dropping Clara off at the theater. It was ironic, because I needed him in much the same way Clara needed Miller. We talked for a while, but Elijah was already asleep, so he couldn’t come over.

  I would have gone to him, but I didn’t want to be away from the house in case Clara came home.

  Two hours have gone by, and I’ve done nothing but pace the floor and stare at the blank television screen, wondering how she’s doing. Wondering if Miller is giving her the reassurance and comfort she needs right now.

  Even if he is, I feel this emptiness in me, and it’s creating a pull to go find her. After she’s been gone for two and a half hours, I finally grab my keys and decide to drive myself back to the theater.

  Miller is behind the concession stand when I walk inside. He’s helping two customers, but I don’t see Clara anywhere. I stand in line and wait until he’s free. When he hands the customers their change and they step out of my way, he looks up and stiffens.

  I like that I make him nervous, but I also hate it. I don’t want to be unapproachable to someone my daughter cares so much about.

  “Looking for Clara?” he asks.

  I nod. “Yeah. Is she still here?”

  He looks at the clock on the wall behind him, then nods. “Yeah, she should be alone in theater three. The movie ended fifteen minutes ago.”

  “She’s . . . alone? Just sitting in a theater by herself?”

  Miller smiles and pulls a cup off a stack, filling it with ice. “Don’t worry, she likes it.” He fills the cup with Sprite and hands it to me. “I’ve been busy, so I haven’t been able to take her a refill. You want anything?”

  “I’m good. Thank you.”

  I start to turn around but stop short when Miller says, “Mrs. Grant?”

  He looks to his left, then his right, ensuring our privacy. He leans forward a little, looking me in the eyes. He presses his lips together nervously before he speaks. “I’m really sorry about sneaking into your house the other night. And for . . . all the other stuff. I really do care about her.”

  I try to see him for the first time without all the preconceived notions Chris had about him. I want to see him as Jonah sees him—like he’s a good kid. Good enough to date Clara. I’m still not sure about that yet, but the fact that he’s just given me what seems like a very genuine apology is a good start. I nod, giving him a small smile, then head toward theater three.

  She’s all the way at the top when I walk in. The lights are on, and she’s staring straight ahead at the blank movie screen, her feet propped up on the seat in front of her.

  She doesn’t notice me until I start walking up the stairs toward the top row. When she does lay eyes on me, she sits up straighter and pulls her feet down. When I reach her, I hand her the Sprite and take a seat next to her.

  “Miller thought you might need a refill.”

  She takes the Sprite and sips from it, moving her empty cup to the seat on the other side of her. Then she lifts the armrest between us and leans into me. It takes me by surprise. I wasn’t sure what to expect from her. She’s been through a lot tonight, and to be honest, I’ve been waiting for the aftershocks to hit. I take advantage of this rare moment of affection by wrapping my arm around her and pulling her to me.

  I don’t think either one of us really knows how to start the conversation. A few long seconds go by before Clara says, “Have you ever cheated on Dad?”

  She doesn’t ask it in an accusatory way. It’s almost like she’s just working through a thought, so I answer her honestly. “No. Up until Jonah, your father was the only guy I’d ever kissed.”

  “Are you angry at them? Dad and Jenny?”

  I nod. “Yes. It hurts. A lot.”

  “Do you regret marrying him?”

  “No. I got you.”

  She lifts her head. “I don’t mean do you regret ever dating him or getting pregnant with me. But do you regret marrying him?”

  I brush her hair from her forehead and smile. “No. I regret the choices he made, but I don’t regret the choices I made.”

  She lays her head back down on my shoulder. “I don’t want to hate him, but I’m mad that he did that to us. I’m mad that Aunt Jenny would do something like that to us.”

  “I know, Clara. But you have to understand that their affair had everything to do with us, but also absolutely nothing at all.”

  “It feels like it had everything to do with us.”

  “Because it did,” I say.

  “You just said it didn’t.”

  “Because it doesn’t,” I say.

  Clara lets out a short defeated laugh. “You’re confusing me.”

  I urge her off my shoulder and turn in my seat a little so that we’re facing each other. I take one of her hands in both of mine. “Your father was a great father to you. But as a husband, he made some shitty choices. No one can be the perfect everything.”

  “But he just seemed so perfect.”

  The betrayal in her eyes saddens me. I don’t want her to go through life with this memory of Chris. I squeeze her hand. “I think that’s the problem. Teenagers think their parents should have it all figured out, but the truth is, adults don’t really know how to navigate life any better than teenagers do. Your father made some big mistakes, but the things he did wrong in his life shouldn’t discredit all the things he did right. Same goes for your aunt Jenny.”

  A tear spills out of Clara’s right eye. She wipes it away quickly. “Most mothers would want their daughters to hate their fathers for doing what Dad did.”

  “I’m not most mothers.”

  Clara’s head falls back
against the red velvet chair, and she looks up toward the ceiling. She laughs as tears continue rolling into her hair. “Thank God for that.”

  It wasn’t a direct compliment, but it makes me feel good, nonetheless.

  “If I tell you something, will you promise not to judge me?” she asks.

  “Of course.”

  She tilts her head toward me, and there’s a trace of guilt in her expression. “I was sitting in Miller’s truck with him after school one day. It was before he broke up with his girlfriend. I wanted him to kiss me so bad, Mom. And I would have let him if he tried, which is what bothers me so much. I knew he had a girlfriend at the time, and I would have let him kiss me anyway. Now that I know what Dad and Aunt Jenny did, it worries me that being capable of an affair is a personality trait, and I got that from Dad. What if it’s some kind of inheritable moral weakness?” She looks back up at the ceiling. “What if I cheat on Miller someday and break his heart like Dad and Aunt Jenny broke yours?”

  I hate that she thinks this. That she’s questioning herself. Sometimes Clara asks questions I can’t answer, and I’m scared this may be one of them.

  But then I think about Jonah and the connection I had with him when we were younger. Maybe talking to Clara about that is a bad idea, but this parenting shit didn’t come with a handbook.

  “I had a moment like that once. I was your age, and I was in a pool with Jonah.”

  Clara suddenly turns her head to look at me, but I keep staring up at the ceiling while I talk.

  “We didn’t kiss, but I wanted it to happen. I was dating your father at the time, and Jonah and Jenny had their thing, but when I looked at him in that moment, it’s like a wall lifted and blocked everything else out. It isn’t that I didn’t care about Jenny or Chris—it’s just that in that moment, I only cared about the way it felt to be looked at like that. The attraction I had for Jonah in that moment left me with blinders on. And I think he felt the same way.”

  “Is that why he broke up with Jenny and moved away?” Clara asks.

  I tilt my head and look at her. “Yes,” I say with complete honesty.

  “Is that why you were so mad when he was back in Aunt Jenny’s life?”

  I nod. “Yeah, but I didn’t realize it at the time. I never acknowledged I even had feelings for him until recently. I never would have done that to Jenny.”

  Clara frowns, and I hate seeing that look on her face. The look of realizing that someone so important to her could do something so terrible. The fear that she might be capable of doing the same thing someday.

  I sigh and look back up at the ceiling. “I’ve had more time to mull over all of this than you have, so maybe I can share some of the wisdom that was born from all my anger. Think of it like this. Attraction isn’t something that only happens once, with one person. It’s part of what drives humans. Our attraction to each other, to art, to food, to entertainment. Attraction is fun. So when you decide to commit to someone, you aren’t saying, ‘I promise I’ll never be attracted to anyone else.’ You’re saying, ‘I promise to commit to you, despite my potential future attraction to other people.’” I look at Clara. “Relationships are hard for that very reason. Your body and your heart don’t stop finding the beauty and the attraction in other people simply because you’ve made a commitment to one person. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you’re drawn to someone else, it’s up to you to remove yourself from that situation before it becomes too hard to fight.”

  “Like Jonah did?”

  I nod. “Yeah. Exactly like that.”

  Clara stares at me a moment. “Dad couldn’t remove himself from the situation with Jenny because she was always around. Maybe that’s why it happened.”

  “Maybe.”

  “It’s still not an excuse, though.”

  “You’re right. It’s not.”

  She lays her head back on my shoulder. I kiss the top of her head, but she doesn’t see the tears that begin to roll down my cheeks. It just feels so good to finally have this conversation with her. It feels good to know that my daughter is a lot more emotionally equipped for the truth than I assumed she was.

  “All the stuff I’ve done—it’s not Miller’s fault. He just tried to be there for me. I don’t want you to hate him.”

  She doesn’t need to convince me anymore. When I found out he tried to talk her out of having sex with him, I stopped hating him. And then when he apologized to me tonight, I actually started to like him. “I don’t hate him. I actually kind of like him. I’d like him more if he never sneaks into your room again. But I do like him.”

  “He won’t,” she says. “I swear.”

  “Mrs. Nettle will tell on you, anyway.”

  She lifts her head. “Is that how you found out?”

  “Sometimes it pays to have the nosiest neighbor alive.”

  Clara laughs, but when she sees my tears, her smile fades. I wave it off. “They’re good tears. I promise.”

  She shakes her head. “My God. We have been so mean to each other.”

  I nod in agreement. “I didn’t think we had it in us.”

  “You grounded me from reading books,” she says, laughing.

  “You called me predictable.”

  “Well, you definitely proved me wrong.”

  Somehow, we’re both smiling. I’m appreciative she took the news so well. I realize her feelings could change again tomorrow. She’ll go through a lot of emotions, I’m sure. But for right now, I’m grateful to have this moment with her.

  Maybe that’s something I need to learn to cherish a little more. Our relationship isn’t always going to be sunshine and roses, but whenever there’s a break in the storm, I need to take advantage of those breaks. No matter what mood I’m in or what’s going on in my own life, I need to bask in these moments of sunshine with Clara.

  “Can we start with a clean slate? Like . . . can we just forget the weed and the detention and the alcohol and the skipping school? I really want my phone back.”

  “That’s not all you did wrong,” I say.

  “I know, but I was running out of breath. The list is really long.”

  Despite everything she’s gone through, I’m still convinced she needs to be grounded. But she’s not the only one who wants to start with a clean slate. I’m not exactly proud of my own behavior.

  “I’ll tell you what. I’ll give you back your phone if you promise to stop making fun of me for preferring cable TV over streaming.”

  Clara stares at me very seriously. “Oh, man. I don’t know . . .”

  “Clara!”

  She laughs. “Fine. Deal.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  CLARA

  My mother and I walk out of the theater holding hands. Miller is at the far end of the hallway, emptying a trash can. My mother doesn’t see him, but I do. Right before we turn to walk toward the exit, Miller smiles at me.

  This moment isn’t even about me and him, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at me right now that feels like he might have just fallen in love with me.

  I smile back at him, knowing I’ll remember this three-second silent exchange forever.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  MORGAN

  This morning when I woke up, it was the first day since the accident that our house wasn’t filled with tension. I was up studying real estate terms for my upcoming job interview, and Clara hugged me before she rushed out the door with a Pop-Tart.

  After school, she texted and said she was working on her film project with Miller. Whether she’s telling the truth, I don’t know. But she’s seventeen. She has a curfew, so as long as she meets it, I’m not going to press her for details on what she and Miller do when they’re together. I already know she’s on birth control, and I’m pretty sure they’re not actively having sex, thanks to her drunken admission.

  I’ll bring it up soon, but when the timing is right. I want to ease into this new dynamic we have. If I jar her too much, she might pull ba
ck again, and that’s the last thing I want.

  I invited Jonah over for dinner. It was nice. We sat at the breakfast nook and took turns feeding Elijah, laughing at his excitement over trying new foods.

  Elijah is now on a pallet on the living room floor, playing with a couple of baby toys Jonah set out for him.

  Jonah and I are on the couch. He’s lying against the arm of it, his legs spread out to fit me between them. My back is against his chest, and we’re both watching Elijah play on the floor.

  Jonah’s left arm is draped over my stomach, and every now and then he’ll press a kiss against the side of my head as we chat. The more he does it, the more used to it I get and the less guilt I feel. I want him to keep doing it until I finally feel no guilt at all. I think that’ll take a few more months, though.

  I sigh at that thought, so naturally, Jonah says, “What’s wrong?”

  “I just worry too much, I think. I worry that their betrayal will cause us to never fully trust each other.”

  “I’m not worried.” He says it with such confidence.

  “Why?”

  “Because. We’ve never been with the person we belonged with until now.”

  I tilt my head back so I can see him. Then I kiss him for that.

  He brushes his thumb over my lip and regards me with a serene look. I’m not sure it’s a look I’ve ever seen emanate from Jonah Sullivan. He’s spent a long time fighting something he no longer has to fight, and the peace within him shows. “We’ll be fine, Morgan. More than fine. I promise.”

  The front door opens, and Jonah and I both react. Clara wasn’t supposed to be home for another hour. I sit up on the couch, and Jonah pulls his legs out from under me.

  Clara pauses in the doorway, staring at us. Then she closes the door. “You don’t have to pretend anymore.” She drops her purse and walks over to the floor. She sits down next to Elijah.

  Jonah looks at me, silently asking if they should leave. Clara sees the look he gives me. She reaches for Elijah and picks him up, leaning with her back against the couch opposite from us. “Stay,” she says to Jonah while looking at Elijah. “I want to play with him for a little while.”