Darling Rose Gold(66)

“About the cancer,” Dad hissed, struggling to keep quiet, aware of the parents nearby. I had never seen him this mad. “You lied about having cancer! What the hell is wrong with you?”

I flushed. My outrage had to match his to be believable. “Excuse me?”

The parents nearby stared, their interest piqued. I bet they’d never heard Billy Gillespie raise his voice.

“I called Dr. Stanton’s office,” Dad said.

Shit.

“He’s a general practitioner, not an oncologist,” he said, hands shaking with fury. “Do you have any idea how humiliated I was?”

I’d worried this might happen. I did what my mother would have done—deny, deny, deny.

“Dr. Stanton is my GP, but I also have an oncologist,” I said, indignation building. “Why were you calling my doctor anyway?”

“Your doctor’s note was from Dr. Stanton,” Dad said, jaw muscles tensing.

“Yeah.” I jutted out my chin. “He’s capable of deciding whether I’m healthy enough to travel.”

“You told us Dr. Stanton was the one treating you.” Dad waved his arms like a lunatic. “So who is this mystery oncologist?”

Quietly I said, “I asked my oncologist to write me a note but he said no. So I convinced Dr. Stanton to do it instead.”

Dad’s forehead wrinkled. “Why did your oncologist say no?”

I shrugged. “He said my body had been through a lot, that I should rest a few more weeks and then we’d see.”

Dad was quiet for a minute, watching me.

“Rose,” he said, his voice full of pain, “is a family trip really worth risking your health?”

Without hesitating, I said, “It is to me.”

That much was true.

Our eyes met. I bit my lip.

For a second, I had him.

Then he blinked a few times and rubbed his forehead, like he was waking up from a spell. “Christ, what am I saying?” he fumed. “Why would one doctor say yes if the other said no? You never seemed sick. You were vague about treatment. You wanted all this support but then wouldn’t let me come to your appointments.” He paused, fresh anger brewing. “You pretended to have Hodgkin’s lymphoma to guilt-trip me. So I would let you come camping. What the hell is wrong with you?” he yelled.

The other parents exchanged shocked looks; they were watching their kids’ soccer coach ream out a helpless young woman. I imagined them speaking in hushed tones later: Is this the kind of man we want around our children? I wondered if they’d kick him off the team.

I felt about two feet tall. I could see now how colossal a mistake I had made. My mother had never been caught in a lie—until the end. How had this all gone so wrong? I just wanted a family, my family.

I cleared my throat and opened my mouth, having no idea what to say next.

Dad cut me off before I could speak. “Don’t you dare keep lying. Don’t you dare even think of opening your mouth and saying one more word about cancer or being sick or how much you need me and my family.”

Anna scurried over, hair disheveled, but she was smiling. She stopped short when she saw the livid expression on her father’s face. “Daddy?” she said, hesitant.

Dad’s eyes flicked toward Anna. “Go to the car and find Mommy.”

Anna didn’t protest. She walked straight to the car, turning back once to glance at me.

I tried not to squirm under the heat of Dad’s stare. Peering up, I marveled at the blue-sky day. The sun was shining, not a cloud in sight. How could my world crumble on such a beautiful afternoon? In the movies, it would be pouring right now, and I’d be stuck without an umbrella. I could have used a good-sized tornado right about then to scoop me up and take me somewhere else. Anywhere far, far away.

I’d banished the voice inside my head last year, yet I still found myself waiting for her to tell me what to do. She’d been silent since I’d arrived at the soccer field, though. I realized that, for the first time in my life, her voice was gone. She’d been guiding me through every day for the better part of twenty-one years. She told me how to eat, dress, behave, scheme. I hadn’t realized how dependent I was on her directions until she took them away, and I hated that I wanted her help. I’d been sure I’d never need anything from that woman ever again, but I’d been fooling myself. Now, when I needed her most, I had to rely on myself instead.

Dad stepped forward and wagged a finger in my face. “You stay away from my family—you got that?” He was trying to intimidate me, but fell a few feet short. I wasn’t scared of Dad—I was scared of not Dad. I was scared of the void I knew was coming. Warts and all, he was still better than having no one.

“Leave me the hell alone too,” he added. He was beginning to annoy me with this self-righteous act. Like he was a saint. Like he’d never made a mistake. He’d lied by omission for twenty years. He was the one who had come looking for me, who had dangled the promise of a family in my face and then yanked it away.

We had reached the point of no return. There would be no coming back from this. There would be no big happy family—at least not one that included me.

“I expect my son to act out,” he said, face still red with anger, “but girls are supposed to behave.”

I guessed my mom never got that memo.