A Midsummer's Nightmare(69)

“Why was the picture with Nathan different?” I asked.

Dad leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. He took a deep breath, then looked up at the ceiling before letting it out. “I broke up our family. So this time, when I was finally ready to settle down again, I didn’t want anything to put it at risk. I just thought… with you and Nathan… the things people would say—it wouldn’t just make the family look bad, it could hurt it, too.”

“You don’t think I know that?” He met my gaze. “Dad, I love the Caulfields. They’ve made me feel like I’m part of their family when my real family didn’t feel like one anymore, and I love them for that. I know that Nathan and I seeing each other could cause problems down the road, if we split up or something. He knows that, too. But we can handle it.”

“You think you can now, but—”

I shook my head. “We can. It might be tough, but we’re adults now. It’s our decision. And we’re going to keep seeing each other at college, no matter what.”

Dad didn’t say anything for a long moment. Then he asked, “Do you really love him?”

“I… I think I’m getting close. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.”

“He’s a good kid. I know he’s had some issues in the past, but his heart’s in the right place. And he feels the same way about you?”

I nodded. “No one in my life has cared about me the way he does.”

“I don’t know how to deal with this,” he said. “I don’t know how to be a dad or a stepdad or a husband. I’m trying, but I just keep screwing it up. I want everything to be so perfect this time.”

“I know.”

He reached out and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me toward him. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“So, what do we do now?” he asked. “I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me what to do.”

“Don’t make me go back to Mom’s early,” I said.

“I won’t. What else?”

“Well…” I hesitated. “I don’t know, either. I haven’t felt like part of a family in a long time, so this is weird for me, too. But we’ll figure it out eventually.”


A little while later, when I walked upstairs, I found my bedroom door unlocked and Nathan sitting on the floor looking at photos.

“You dressed up like Princess Leia for Halloween?” he asked. “I’m liking you more every day.”

“What?” I knelt down beside him and saw that the photos he was looking at were of me. “Oh, yeah, that’s from when I was eleven—the year before the divorce. Dad managed to convince me that Princess Leia was the coolest costume in the store—cooler than a ballerina dress, anyway. Where did you find this?”

“In the closet, with the rest of these,” he said.

“These were in the closet?” I said, picking up another photo from the pile spread on the floor. It was of Dad and me fishing on Kentucky Lake two years ago, me sporting a sunburn almost as bad as the one I’d gotten this summer. “Wow. I always just assumed it was storage.”

“You’ve never been in the closet?” he asked.

“No—but I’m wondering why you were in my closet.”

He shrugged. “I got bored while you were downstairs. Did everything go okay?”

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m not going back early. I don’t know about the rest of the stuff yet, but it’s all…out there now, I guess.”

“Good.” Nathan kissed me once, then picked up another photo. “You were a cute kid.”

“I was lanky and awkward. Until I turned fifteen—then I got boobs.” I stood up and walked over to the closet doors. “What else is in here?”

“Just some crazy-looking paintings.”

“Oh my God,” I said, staring at the psychedelic, colorful paintings leaned up against the wall of the closet. They were the ones from Dad’s condo. I leaned forward to read the sticky note attached to the frame of the closest one.


Hi, Whitley!


I found these when we were unpacking and your dad thought you might want them. There are also some photographs in here that I found in a box. Feel free to decorate the room however you like. Can’t wait to finally meet you!


Sylvia


I’d always imagined an ironing board or extra sheets in this closet. I’d never imagined this, never imagined things that belonged to me.

But this room had been mine all along.

“Hey, Nathan?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you know where I can get some nails and a hammer?”

“Uh, maybe. Why?”

I picked up the brightly colored abstract and carried it into the middle of my room, standing it in front of Nathan. “Because,” I said when he looked up at me. “I have a project for us.”


“Looks good, munchkin.”

I turned and found Dad standing in the doorway. “Thanks,” I said, handing a nail up to Nathan, who was standing on the chair, so he could hang the last painting. “We’re almost done.”

“I haven’t seen this picture in so long,” he said, picking up the frame I’d put on my dresser. “This was taken—what? Ten years ago?”