Inevitable and Only(12)
“Dad, have you even taken a bath all week?”
He looked up, startled. “Of course I have!”
“Have you taken more than one bath?”
“Err.” He looked sheepish. “Well, once I dried out the tub and put all the books back in, I figured I probably wouldn’t be here much longer, so it didn’t seem worth it to …” He jumped up, as if he’d just realized who he was talking to. “Cadie!”
I grinned and met him halfway. We slammed into each other for a hug.
“Dad, please come home,” I mumbled into his chest. “We need you. No one else knows how to make tofu scramble.” I couldn’t say I miss you without the threat of shedding tears, which was definitely not on the agenda.
“He heaved a sigh,” he said, doing just that. A little glow kindled in my chest, melting away some of my doubts from last night. Everything will be okay. He’s still Dad. Still his same old self.
“Here,” he said, “come sit down.”
I plunked myself into the overstuffed armchair next to his desk.
“I’ve spent some time talking to Elizabeth this week,” he said, and the glow in my chest fizzled out, just like that. “And to—her mother. Sunshine.”
“Sunshine?” I echoed. “That’s really her name?”
“She’d been very ill,” he said, as if he hadn’t heard me. “The hospital called this morning to tell me she passed away last night.” He rubbed his eyes. “She was in a lot of pain at the end. It was—a mercy, really.”
I barely knew what to say. “Did you even know she was sick?”
He shook his head. “Not until she got in touch with me to tell me about Elizabeth. That’s why she got in touch. Why she went through the whole process with the lawyer, naming me as legal guardian. She said she wouldn’t have done it otherwise—she never intended to disrupt my life.” His voice caught on the end of that sentence.
“Dad,” I said sharply. “Did you love this woman?”
He looked at me unhappily. “What would be more horrible, Cadie? If I said yes, or if I said no? Look, it was all a long time ago—”
“Sixteen years,” I interrupted. I could feel my palms starting to sweat and my face heating up. I clenched my fists.
“And now I have to deal with the consequences. There is a grieving young woman in this situation who no longer has a family. She needs a home, and I am going to give her one.”
I felt light-headed, as if someone had just sucked all the air out of the room. “She’s going to come live with us, in our house?”
Dad nodded. “I’m taking the train to Ohio this weekend to help Elizabeth pack her things and take care of business with her house. I spoke to your mother last night. While she’s not exactly enthusiastic, she agrees that it’s the right thing to do.”
“You talked to Mom about this already? When were you planning to tell me and Josh? If I hadn’t come over here today, then what—this girl would’ve just shown up at our door?”
Dad frowned. “Acadia Rose, you do not speak to me like that, and she’s not ‘this girl’—”
But I’d heard enough. I flounced down the stairs, grabbed my backpack, and shoved the door open. The bell jangled loudly, as if I’d punched it.
CHAPTER FIVE
I called Raven and Micayla as soon as I got home from the bookstore.
“Mom!” I hollered. “I’m going out.”
“Where?” she yelled back, from her bedroom.
“The Charmery. With Raven and Micayla.”
“Fine.” She didn’t even say Don’t ruin your appetite for dinner, which meant she still wasn’t her usual self. Not that saying it would matter. I never feel like eating Mom’s cooking, appetite or not.
I pulled on my Jackson Pollock jeans, the ones Micayla made for me. She always wore paint-spattered clothing—overalls, mostly—and I loved the way she looked. Her clothes were paint-spattered from wearing them while actually painting, not because she’d bought them that way.
Micayla and Raven were already sitting at a window table, waiting for me, when I walked into the Charmery—it was only a few blocks from my house, so I knew they must’ve really hurried. I felt tears prickling up and quickly squeezed my eyes shut. God, I was such a leaky faucet these days.
When I opened my eyes, my friends were standing in front of me.
“Girl, what are you doing? Making a wish?” Micayla asked, grinning. “Well, ta-da, here we are!”
Raven gave me a sharp look, though, and I could tell she knew why I was all squinty-eyed. Have I mentioned that I never cry? “Let’s get this girl a double scoop,” she said, leading me to the ice cream counter.
I ordered an Old Bay Caramel–Berger Cookies & Cream combo in a cup. Raven got two scoops of Thai Tea with sprinkles. Micayla chose something called Chinese Food & a Movie, which turned out to be buttered-popcorn–flavored ice cream with chocolate-covered fortune cookie pieces.
“Totally gross, and yet totally delicious,” she reported. We passed each cup to the right until we’d tasted everyone else’s ice cream.
Raven and Micayla both looked exhausted. Micayla was a junior, and she spent all her free time studying for the SAT and working on her college portfolio and being the president of the Black Student Council. She wanted to study art therapy and teach art to kids with learning disabilities. Raven spent Wednesday afternoons tutoring middle schoolers in Waverly, and Saturday mornings she helped plant and harvest vegetables at the community garden in Remington. In her nonexistent free time, between debate team and student government and getting straight As in all her classes, she had her nose buried in biographies of women like Malala Yousafzai and Hillary Clinton. It was hard sometimes to watch my two best friends planning to change the world while I sat around taking up space and feeling like I wasn’t particularly good at anything.