Sweetest Venom (Virtue #2)(20)
I nod, staring at him.
“We could get back in the car. I could drop you off wherever you want and I’ll go back to the office. The day will go on as if this little adventure hadn’t happened at all.”
“What’s the second one?” I ask, not liking the first option at all.
“The second one is,” he extends his hand, pointing in the direction of the park, “the unknown—with me.”
I take one last glimpse at the outlines of the aging rides embedded on the autumn sky of Coney Island before focusing on Lawrence once more. Oh, what the hell. Why not? I reach for his hand and begin to walk in the direction of the park. “You make the unknown sound very inviting, Mr. Rothschild.”
He tightens his grasp. “Likewise, Miss White.”
We stop at Nathan’s on the boardwalk for an early lunch. While I wait for Lawrence to bring back our order, I find it extremely hard to focus on anything other than him. He sticks out like a sore thumb wearing his thousand-dollar suit in a sea of casually dressed locals and tourists. I giggle when I notice the dazed expression of the cashier who’s serving Lawrence. It’s the Lawrence Effect—complete immobility and the loss of all coherent thought and speech. Code word for making an ass of yourself.
Still smiling, I shake my head and look away when the famous Ferris wheel sticking out behind the building comes into focus. A memory long forgotten becomes so clear I can almost taste the funnel cake I ate on that occasion. It’s one of the few happy memories I have of my parents and my childhood. Maybe even the last. I’m not exactly sure how old I was, but I remember that a traveling carnival stopped at our town. It was during one of my father’s dry spells. He had been sober for a while and hadn’t missed any of his AA meetings. Mom seemed to be home more often, too. They were kind to each other. For once, laughter and the music of The Beatles and The Eagles filled our home instead of yelling and the usual fighting words.
In my innocence, I thought that we were finally going to be a family, that they would finally love me as I loved them. In retrospect, it seems like we all knew that it was a borrowed moment, a temporary delight—a daydream that would eventually come to an end. I think that’s when I learned that good things never last. So, in silent agreement, we laughed harder, we held each other closer, and we pretended to be the perfect family for a little longer. However, we never spoke of the future. We just enjoyed the present as it came.
But the most perfect moment of the night came when my dad took me on the Ferris wheel.
We were up high, my small town a collection of faraway twinkling lights, when my dad put his arm around me and pulled me close to him. He placed a kiss on my head, and said, his voice shaky, “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Daddy. I will never ever forget this day.”
“I won’t either.”
But I knew by the sorrow in his voice that my dream was coming to an end, and it was breaking my young heart, fear choking me and making it hard to breathe.
“My beautiful girl. I’m sorry for not being able to be the dad you deserve.”
“But you are, Daddy. You’re the best daddy in the world,” I said and hugged him. I didn’t realize that I was crying until I saw a wet mark on his shirt.
“You’re the light that stops me from drowning in the darkness that I live in.” He paused. “Whatever happens, know that I love you, my little Blaire. And that if I’m proud of one thing in my life, it is of calling you my daughter. Don’t ever forget that.”
But eventually things went back to the same old, and his little Blaire did forget.
“Here you go,” I hear Lawrence say, bringing me back to the present. As he places the tray full of steaming and heaven-smelling food on the table, he must notice that something is bothering me because he asks, “What’s the matter?”
I paste a fake smile on my face and reach for a hot dog. “Oh, you know—the same old. Don’t want to talk about it. Let’s eat. You’re probably starving and so am I.” The words spill out one right after the other, without giving him a chance for a rebuttal. And he knows it, but Lawrence chooses to give me the space that I need by not probing any further.
Once we’re done eating, I get up and walk to the closest garbage can, disposing of the napkins and leftover food. I stand still, close my eyes, and lift my face toward the sky, absorbing the heat from a fleeting ray of sunlight. The air has turned bitterly cold, but I don’t want to leave just yet. Breathing deeply, I enjoy the salty smell of the water and the call of the seagulls nearby. As the chilly wind picks up speed, blowing my hair in all directions, my senses come alive. I sense Lawrence standing behind me before the warmth of his suit jacket enfolds me. His hands rub the length of my arms, warming me as he pulls me toward him. I lean my back on his chest and slowly open my eyes. Each blink brings the cloudy sky, the stormy ocean, and the seemingly endless horizon into focus.
And it’s peaceful.
And it’s magical.
And maybe it’s the security of Lawrence’s arms around me, or maybe it’s Lawrence’s quiet strength seeping into my bloodstream, but somehow I find myself opening and sharing my deepest secrets with him. I tell him about my childhood, the Ferris wheel ride with my dad, of my mom packing her shit and leaving me behind. I tell him of Paige Callahan and her father, Matthew. I tell Lawrence how Matthew used to f*ck me in a dirty motel in exchange for pretty gifts and money, and how after he was done with me, he’d go back to his big house on the fancy side of town and pretend to be the exemplary father and the pillar of the community.