Open House(41)
He ignored her. “But do you know why I didn’t pick up her call, Haley? Do you know why I declined a call from my Emma on the night she disappeared?” Haley suddenly wasn’t sure she wanted to hear where this was going. Her dad stared hard like he actually wanted her to try to answer, and then he said, “I declined my daughter’s call because I was with the woman I was having an affair with. I was cheating on your mother, and I was so wrapped up in it. And for the first time in maybe forever I didn’t pick up the phone for one of my daughters.” He shook his head like he still couldn’t believe it, and Haley started crying. “The outcome for Emma could have been so different,” he went on. “That’s the truth—I’ve gone over it in my mind thousands of times—so don’t try to talk me out of it. I’ve heard her voice mail a hundred times. She called me from the woods, from the last place she was ever seen, and she said twenty-six words, all of which sounded terrified. So don’t tell me what I can believe and what I can’t. There’s a chance I could have stopped my daughter from disappearing, and believing she’s still out there is the only way I know how to keep going. Do you understand me, Haley? This is the only way I can stay alive with what I’ve done. Because if she’s out there, I need to be here for her to come home to.”
Tears fell hot over Haley’s cheeks. “Oh, Dad,” she said. She knew him well enough to know what this must have done to him, carrying the weight of this terrible thing, the guilt of it all, thinking he could have stopped her—it must have nearly killed him. “I’m so sorry,” she said. It all made so much sense, how small his world had gotten, how obsessed he was with the idea that Emma could still be alive, how stubborn he was whenever they tried to tell him she wasn’t.
“You’re sorry?” he asked, blinking.
“Of course I’m sorry,” she said, and then she turned to her mother. “For you, too, Mom, that he did this to you, that he hurt you.” She turned back to her father. “But, Dad, to know you’ve had this guilt, on top of everything else . . .” She was awash with empathy for him, no matter what terribly stupid thing he’d done, the tears falling even faster now. “Emma’s not gone because of you,” she said, making her voice as strong as she could. “I don’t believe that. And I need you, too. What about staying alive because I’m here?” she asked, her voice a whisper.
Her dad ran a hand over his lined skin and looked out Emma’s window into the snow. “You’d be okay without me,” he finally said, and Liv started crying even harder, her eyes on Haley. “It’s the truth,” he said to both of them, “you know it is. I haven’t been much of a father since Emma disappeared. And you’re so strong, Haley.”
“I’m not strong enough to lose you,” Haley said. “I still need you.”
Haley’s dad sat back on the bed, sinking into the mattress. “I understand if you don’t want to talk to me ever again because of what I’ve done to your mother and your sister.”
“Never talk to you again?” Haley repeated. “Because of a mistake? Do you really think I’d give you up that easily, after everything we’ve all been through? I don’t think what happened to Emma is your fault,” she said again. “I just don’t. And I never will. So don’t even bother trying to convince me, and don’t apologize.”
“I cheated on your mom,” he said. “Even if you don’t blame me for Emma, you have every right to be furious at me for that.”
Haley looked down at the pattern on Emma’s rug, at the way the silky blue threads made spirals like those inside a seashell, and then said, “I’m furious about all of it, about everything that’s happened. I don’t think I’ve ever stopped being furious. And maybe if we were a different family, I would let this final detail tear us apart, but we’re not a different family—we’re us. And I can’t pretend to understand marriage when I’ve never been married and can barely understand my own relationship. Your marriage is your business, really.”
Liv stopped crying. Maybe she thought the news of his affair would destroy Haley in some way, but the truth was there wasn’t anything else that could break Haley like her sister’s disappearance had—at least nothing that she could imagine. “How did you find out?” Haley asked her mom. She wasn’t sure why, but she needed to know.
“Apparently, your sister had seen them together,” Liv said, her voice soft.
“And Emma told you?” Haley asked.
Liv shook her head. “She confronted Dad. And they were supposed to talk that night more about it . . .” Her mom’s eyes cut to her dad, like she was worried she’d made a mistake, mentioned the wrong thing, but he picked up where she left off.
“Emma and I were texting. We were going to meet and talk more. I’d lost my cool earlier that week when she mentioned it to me; I regret that, but not nearly as much as I regret ignoring her call that night . . .”
He started to cry, and Liv put a hand on his knee, began rubbing circles. How many times had she been strong for him during the past decade? How did she do it?
“Mom,” Haley said, squeezing Liv’s other hand.
Liv let go of a breath and squeezed back. “Your dad told the police right away about the affair when Emma disappeared,” she said, “because the woman was married, and God forbid it had something to do with Emma vanishing. But it didn’t; the police looked into that thoroughly.”