How (Not) to Fall in Love(92)

“Dad.” I reached out to touch him, but he pushed me away.

“Don’t you see, Darcy?” His face contorted in fury, in shame. “It was a lie. Here I was standing in front of these kids who were really sick. Some of them had actual brushes with death. Most of them were on chemo. Like the girl who reminded me of you.” He stopped, taking deep breaths to compose himself.

My mind reeled with what he’d told me, but I knew I had to reassure him and keep him calm. He was like a rubber band stretched to the point of breaking and I was terrified of what would happen if he snapped.

“But Dad,” I whispered. “Your Harvest message…it’s still true. It still helps people.”

Dad spoke so softly I had to strain to hear him. “All these years, I told myself it didn’t matter. I let myself believe J.J. even though deep down I knew I should come clean.” His hands rested on Toby. “I’m a fraud, Darcy. Harvest deserves to fail.” He looked at me. “But I didn’t want you and your mom to be part of my failure. Last summer…I tried to explain to J.J. that I wanted to quit, retire, whatever. I couldn’t do it anymore. But he wouldn’t hear of it.” His body shuddered. “He told me to follow my own advice and keep pushing. Never give up.” He turned to stare out the window. “J.J. was supposed to take care of you. He promised.”

My pulse thudded in my ears. “J.J. knew? He knew why you left?” All this time he’d known and hadn’t told us? He’d watched us agonize over Dad’s disappearance. He’d read some of the postcards but hadn’t told us what they really meant? He’d watched Mom fall apart. All this time, he knew.

Dad spoke again. “I thought maybe I could figure out a way to tell the truth, but still keep Harvest going. That’s why I left. To be by myself and work it out.”

I stared into the night, watching the red glow of fading tail lights pass us. I had to keep Dad calm until we got home.

“Harvest helped me, Dad.”

He shifted in his seat to look at me. I turned to meet his eyes. He didn’t speak.

“I’m not just saying that.” I leaned against the back of my seat and closed my eyes. “I used to hate it, you know. All your platitudes about planting crops and reaping what we sow.”

“I know,” he whispered.

I opened my eyes and took his hands, no longer smooth and manicured but rough and chapped. “But the thing is, you were right. We can’t just sit around waiting for someone to save us, or fix everything. We have to do it ourselves.” I thought of Charlie. And Liz. And Lucas. “But other people can help, too.” I took a breath. “I heard your voice, Dad. All the time. When I talked to the board. When I applied for my job, and got it.” And when I’d told Mom she had to get help with her drinking. And so many other times these past months I’d been guided by his wisdom without even realizing it. “I think people will still listen to you, Dad. If you want them to.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks and fell onto Toby’s fur. “I don’t know what I want, Darcy.”

I let go of his hands, placing them gently on Toby. “Don’t you want to go home? To see Mom?”

He didn’t answer, so I started the truck and eased back onto the highway. I glanced at the gas gauge, knowing I’d have to stop at some point to fill up. What would I do then, chain Dad to the steering wheel?

We drove in silence. Eventually my hands stopped shaking. My emotions fluctuated wildly. I wanted to kill J.J. but at the same time I never wanted to see him again.

All I wanted was peace in my life. I didn’t care where we lived or what job Mom could scrounge up or if Dad worked in a 7-Eleven for the rest of his life. I just wanted to come home at the end of the day and find them there, laughing and talking like they used to. I wanted Dad to be strong again. I wanted Mom to stop crying, to stop worrying. To let go of the past.

The highway was a blur of trucks and cars flying past us. Light snow glanced off the windshield. Dad fell asleep, snoring softly. We stopped for gas and he didn’t wake up. I sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Stonehenge spirits.

Dad had been asleep for almost an hour when his scream shattered the night. I nearly drove off the highway as terror sliced through me.

“Dad, what is it?” My eyes darted from his face to the road. He jerked straight up, his face a mask of terror.

Toby jumped off his lap, whining nervously.

Dad banged his head against the back of the seat as sobs racked his body. “Can’t do it. Can’t do it. Can’t.” He reached for the door handle.

“No!” I screamed and steered the car off to the shoulder of the highway, cars blaring their horns at me. The truck shuddered to a stop on the gravel. Dad looked at me and I didn’t know who he was anymore. The lucidity from earlier was gone, replaced by a stranger. A terrified, broken stranger.

My hands trembled as I pulled my cell from my pocket and dialed 911. I couldn’t do this by myself anymore.

My rescue mission was over.





Chapter Thirty-Seven


The ambulance siren wailed as we flew down the highway. I sat on the bench next to the EMT, holding Dad’s limp, sedated hand. The sheriff’s car led us, lights and sirens clearing the traffic out of the way, with Toby in the backseat.

The EMT was kind. “Do you want me to call someone to meet us at the hospital?”