"We'll need to move out to Long Island. It will be easier on you to be closer to the hospital. I can commute into Brooklyn."
"You want to move in together?" she whispers, her eyes wide.
"Yeah, don't you?"
"Well... yeah, but--"
"Sam thinks it's a good idea, and so do I," I tell her quickly.
"Sam thinks it's a good idea?" she asks with a grin.
"Yup, and I'm expecting he's going to demand we get a house with a fenced-in yard so he can have a dog."
Holly laughs, wraps her arms around me, and pulls me back down for a kiss. When she releases my lips, she says, "I think we should get the kid a dog for sure."
I kiss her again... swiftly, because I hear the swinging door bang open and the voices of a few of the guys coming through.
Sobering a bit, I ask her hesitantly, "Are you going to talk to your dad?"
"Yeah," she says with no hesitation. "It needs to be done. I need to thank him at least, and I don't know... maybe talk to him."
"Want to go over there tomorrow when I get off duty?"
She shakes her head. "No, I only have one more day here and I don't want to spend it with anyone other than you. But I do have an idea of how I want this to go down."
I look at her in question, but she doesn't give me anything else. Instead, she steps back into my arms and hugs me with a sigh of contentment.
My life just got very fucking good.
Epilogue
The Grande Ballroom of the Plaza Hotel is overflowing with people, flowers, and champagne. It's an auspicious occasion, where New York's medical finest are lauded for their groundbreaking work.
My father, of course, was the main honoree, being the recipient of the Franklin R. Murray award, which is voted on by his peers. I had to look it up, not being overly familiar with how things are done in New York anymore, but I saw on the website that the award goes to a physician who best uses his or her talents and skills to improve the lives of his or her patients through actual practice, teaching, and charitable works.
The award is really quite impressive and when my father took the stage to accept it, I found myself clapping with actual respect for him. Tim, decked out in the most gorgeous tuxedo I've ever seen, was clapping right alongside me.
We make our way through the throng of people. Now that dinner has been concluded, the band is playing and people are taking to the dance floor. My father knows I'm here, as I got word through my mother that I would attend. What he doesn't know is that Tim will be with me.
I'm not sure if I'm doing this for the shock factor, or if... once again... I just want to rip the Band-Aid off.
I moved to New York this past weekend. Tim and I are still looking for a house we can buy together, but for now, I'm staying in his small apartment. I start work next week, and I'm terribly excited because I'll be doing work on the pediatric trauma services.
I haven't seen my mother or father yet, and it's been difficult to put off their invitations to get together. But I didn't want to succumb to the possibility of something more with them until I could show them just what they'd be getting if they wanted me back in their lives.
I needed to show them that Tim is a part of my life.
The biggest part of my life, actually.
Spotting my father and mother ahead, Tim takes the hand he had on my waist and laces his fingers with mine. With a reassuring squeeze, we make our way toward them and the group of doctors they're talking to.
As we approach, my mom spots us first, and she tugs gently on the coat of my dad's tux. He looks down at her, and she nods our way. His head swivels and he looks at me, a warm smile curving his face. His eyes flick to Tim, causing me to step in just a little closer to him in solidarity, and oddly... the smile on my father's face doesn't dim in the slightest.
His head inclines toward the other men in his group, and I can tell he's excusing himself from their presence. Then he and my mom are walking toward us.
"Easy, baby," Tim breathes out beside me. He can feel the tension in the grip of my hand.
My father reaches us, beaming down at me. My mom gives Tim a warm smile, and then gives me an equally bright beam. "You made it."
"I made it," I agree, and then immediately rip the Band-Aid off. "Mom... Dad... you remember Tim Davis, right?"
Both of my parents turn to Tim, and then in a move so astounding that my jaw hits the floor, my father sticks his hand out to Tim. "Tim... I've been waiting ten years to see you again. Didn't think it would be tonight, but I'm glad it is."
Tim politely takes my father's hand and shakes it. I'm still completely stunned by this turn of events, but I hear Tim say in his deep voice. "Congratulations on your award, Dr. Reynolds."
My father turns to me, leans over, and kisses my cheek. 'Think you have a moment you can spare for me? I really need to talk to you, but it would be better in private."
I nod, not trusting my words. My father turns away, but then says, "Tim... do you mind coming too? You need to hear this as well."
Tim looks at me with eyebrows raised and I shrug my shoulders, but we both follow along behind my father. My mother, oddly, stays behind.
We walk out of the ballroom, Tim and I holding hands. We silently follow my father through the hotel and right out onto 5th Avenue. I'm surprised that his definition of private is a busy New York City street.
But as we walk a few paces away from the door, I realize the loud hustle and bustle of a New York Saturday night actually provides more privacy than the ballroom. Here... everyone is walking quickly by, not paying attention to us at all.
My father turns, sticks his hands in his pockets, and looks me directly in the eye. "I'm sorry for my actions, Holly."
I flinch... because his words actually pack a punch. Before I can even process that this is turning into something I never expected, my father turns to Tim. "And Tim... I'm sorry and so very ashamed of myself."
"I don't understand," I manage to croak out, and Tim's hand comes supportively around my waist.
"You don't understand that I'm sorry for my actions all those years ago?" my dad asks with a wry smile. "Why ever not? I mean, I never gave you any indication that I was wrong."
He's being sarcastic in a completely self-deprecating way.
I appreciate it immensely, and it causes me to award him with a small smile.
My dad takes in a deep breath and looks upward briefly... maybe asking someone above for strength. Blowing it out, he looks back to me and says, "Parents aren't supposed to learn from their children. It's supposed to be the other way around. My greatest shame is in knowing that I was not a good role model to you. My greatest pride is in that you taught me something very important."
"And what's that?" I ask hesitantly.
"That love is love," he says quietly. "I didn't realize it. Not for a long time. I was just as hurt by you cutting me out as you were by what I did to you and Tim. By the time I realized the fool I had been, it seemed too late to make amends. You weren't having anything to do with me, and I was confident I had lost any right to ever ask for forgiveness."
"That's an awful big turnaround," I say skeptically.
"Not really," he says with a shrug of his shoulders. "You know this, Holly... but as doctors, we have to be forward thinking. If we weren't, we would be stuck in the stone ages of medicine. Hell... I was just given an award in part for my innovation. I'm a progressive thinker."
I can't help it... I snort, completely disbelieving of what he just said.
"Scoff all you want, but I am. What you heard? What you saw ten years ago? That was nothing more than how I was raised. I was raised by parents who didn't believe in people of different races mixing. I had no cause to ever question it. It never touched my life... until the day you brought Tim home for us to meet. And you saw nothing but pure, unfiltered beliefs that were handed down to me by my parents. I didn't stop to think if they were wrong. I just spouted them out and, in the process, I hurt my daughter who I love beyond measure, and I hurt who I'm suspecting is a fine young man."
I'm so in tune with Tim that I can literally feel the tension melt away from his body. I can tell... by the subtle loosening of his hand in mind and the soft exhale of breath he had been holding, that he has completely accepted my father's words as true.
My father looks over at Tim, because he must see what I just felt on Tim's face. "I'm sorry, Tim. I hope you can forgive a foolish man his bigoted beliefs. I can assure you, I've let them go. I had to... because of all that I had lost."
Tim nods his head. "Thank you, Dr. Reynolds. And I do... forgive you, that is."
My father turns his gaze toward me. Hopeful. Yearning.
I lower my eyes and murmur, "I don't know what to say. I wasn't expecting this."
"You don't have to say anything, Holly," my dad assures me, and I raise my eyes to meet his. "Just know that I am truly sorry for the pain I caused. I know it kept you from the man you love... the man you're supposed to be with. I hope, in time, you can forgive me."
"Okay," I whisper, finally starting to accept that perhaps my father can change. "Thank you for saying that."
"Sure," my dad says with a thin smile. I know he expects me to say something more. Perhaps give him the words of forgiveness that Tim just so valiantly gave him.
When I remain silent, still processing this momentous event, my dad clears his throat and says, "Well... I need to get back inside. Guest of honor and all. Enjoy the rest of your evening."
My dad walks past us, and I catch the familiar scent of his cologne. It's the same scent he's worn since I was a little girl. I used to love hugging him, pressing my face into his tummy and inhaling the spicy smell.