A Midsummer's Nightmare(54)

But I didn’t say anything.

“We should get back,” Dad said, standing up. We’d been sitting in the booth for barely ten minutes. “Sylvia will be wondering what’s taking us so long.”

“Wait—I need… Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, munchkin. What’s up?”

I swallowed. I couldn’t believe I was going to ask him this. I was such a moron.

“A few years ago, when I asked to live with you, you said no. Was it really because of Mom? Because you didn’t want her to be upset?”

“Of course.”

“Really?”

“Well… why are you asking me about this?” he asked.

“Just because. Because I should know. Was there another reason you didn’t want me to live with you?”

He let out a long breath and pressed three fingers to his temple. “That was a big part of the reason, yes. Because I knew your mother was very upset about the divorce and if you came to live with me, she’d be even more upset. I felt guilty, and I didn’t want to make things worse.”

“But this was two years after the divorce,” I told him. “It was over with. She was still mad, but… What was the other reason, Dad?”

“Whitley, I don’t—”

“Just tell me.”

“To be honest, I was happy. I was a bachelor with a good job and a great life. I’d just gotten out of a marriage I’d been in since I was twenty-one, and I was having fun. I didn’t think it was the right time.”

“Right time for what?” I asked. “For me to live with you?”

He shook his head. “Having a teenage girl live with me would have complicated things.”

“So… you just… didn’t want me?”

I’d already figured this out, but hearing it out loud still hurt like hell.

“I wouldn’t say it like that. It was more just… I know I was a bad father for feeling that way, but I thought, in the long run, life would be better for both of us if you just stayed with your mother. I was sure you were just going through a phase—wanting to live with me. You were fourteen. You’d change your mind. I shouldn’t have lied to you. But it all worked out in the end, right?”

“Right,” I muttered.

“Okay, let’s get out of here.” He stood and picked up his empty cup of ice cream. “I’m sorry, munchkin. I wish I could have told you the truth then, but I was a selfish *. I’ve changed, though.”

No, I thought, watching him toss his cup in the trash can and head for the door. I stood up and followed, throwing away my unfinished Blizzard. That’s one thing about you that hasn’t changed at all.





24


Right after we got back to the house, I received a text message from Trace.


Hey sry havent called n a while. Em got a new job! How r u?


His timing was pretty uncanny. Dad was walking into the kitchen, leaving me standing in the living room, alone, without even a word. Like nothing had happened. Like I wasn’t there. It was like Trace knew I needed him. Like he knew how alone I felt.

I started texting back as I walked upstairs to the guest room.


Not good. Can I call u?


He replied quickly.


No. N a meeting. On a saturday. Its boring & its a long story. I can txt tho


Leave it to my brother to be texting under the table at some kind of important meeting. A good sister would have sent him another message, telling him she’d call him back when the meeting was over. He shouldn’t be texting. This was his job. All of that bullshit.

Well, I wasn’t a good sister. In fact, I was pretty goddamn selfish if you got right down to it. Yet another trait I’d gotten from my father, I guess.

There were so many things I wanted to say. So many stories I wanted to tell Trace. Feelings I wanted him to understand. But a text message can’t hold that many emotions. Or letters.

So I typed the only words that seemed to fit:


I liked dad better b4 I knew the truth.


It wasn’t easy explaining to Trace through text messages the whole story about my talk with Dad, but I managed. And while his attempts to comfort me were full of misspellings and incorrect punctuation, it felt good just to have someone listen. Or read, technically.

He told me he’d give me a call—a real voice-to-voice call—in the next few days, but I wasn’t going to hold him to it. Not that I thought he was lying or anything, but he had a wife now. A daughter. And at the moment, I was beginning to understand just how important it could be for a father to pay attention to his family.

Trace’s family came first. I got that. Even if taking care of them meant he couldn’t call me for several days, I wouldn’t complain. Not anymore.


Thingsll get better. Dont 4get hes still r dad. He f*cked up but he luvz u


I didn’t reply to that one. Lately, everyone seemed to be telling me that Dad loved me. Everyone but Dad.

I put my cell phone on the nightstand and stretched out on the bed, squeezing my eyes shut. With all the things I’d learned, I knew that even when the summer ended, the nightmare wouldn’t. I was mad at Dad for so many things, but mostly I was mad at him for letting me see he wasn’t perfect.