Truthfully, I’m not sure why either he or Mama agreed. I only ever heard from him on my birthday and Christmas and the conversation never lasted more than ten minutes if he could help it. He’s remarried with a gorgeous wife who’s the exact opposite of Mama in both looks and personality, and a stepson who’s broody and evasive no matter how hard I try getting to know him.
His life here was perfect.
Until me.
I open the door and give him a sleepy smile, which he returns easily. He tries to make me comfortable. His wife, Cam, has been nothing but sweet and her son Kaiden, despite his typical avoidance, could be worse. They’ve been welcoming since I arrived a month and a half ago, giving me anything I needed. A new doctor, a chance to decorate my room how I want, and space. Lots of space.
Dad works at a pharmaceutical company now. I don’t remember much of him from when I was little, just the suits he wore and the way he would give Mama a chaste kiss if we were around or a simple nod if he thought we weren’t looking. I never realized how unhappy they both looked then.
This man doesn’t look like the one I remember. His dark brown hair is peppered with gray, especially around the ears, and his hairline is receding. The natural tan skin I’ve always been jealous of is slightly wrinkled, and his eyes have a dull to them that I don’t recall seeing in the past. Is that from age or circumstance?
“Cam has breakfast cooking.” He rubs his arm, covered by a navy blazer, and gives me a weary look. “If you aren’t up to going today…”
Today. The first day at a new school. It’s my junior year even though I should be a senior like Kaiden. After missing too many classes from hospital admissions, I was held back.
“I’ll be fine.” It’s a weak reassurance that neither of us truly believes. It isn’t a lie though. I won’t be walking into a shark cage bleeding, so there are worse things to experience.
His gaze lingers, his eyes a light shade of brown with the same specks of emerald Mama told me I have. I don’t see it when I look in the mirror though.
“Emery…”
I stand there, gripping the doorknob in my hand until my fingers hurt, waiting for him to say something.
He clears his throat. “Happy birthday.”
Today. My eighteenth birthday.
The way Dad looks at me is like he’s trying to see someone else. Maybe he wonders if Logan would have looked the same. It’s been nine years since she passed, ten since he left.
What does he remember of her?
Instead of asking, I swallow my inquiry and force a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.”
I told him I didn’t want a party or even a special dinner. When I was younger, he and Mama would ask what we wanted for our birthdays—the meal was always our choice. Lo would always ask to go out, while I always asked to stay in. The cake was the same. Red velvet with white buttercream frosting. Honestly, there was nothing I wanted from Dad now besides temporary shelter.
No homecooked meal.
No red velvet cake.
Part of me feels like wanting anything from Dad is somehow cheating on Mama. Like forgiving him means I don’t care that he left or hurt her or us. No matter what, he abandoned us when we needed him. When Lo needed him.
He tips his head, pauses, and then turns toward the downstairs. Kaiden’s room is down the hall from mine, but he doesn’t bother him. I wonder if he’s already up and ready, an early riser. Sometimes I’ll hear him leave his room late at night and watch him sneak out of the house.
I wonder where he goes. Or if Cam knows. Or if Dad does. It isn’t my place to ask, so I leave it be.
It takes me fifteen minutes to throw on a pair of blue jeans with one of the knees ripped out and an oversized black sweater that falls off my shoulder. Running a brush through my tangled hair and leaving it loose, I note that it’s finally passing my shoulders again. Mama would probably be happy to hear that, she always loved when Lo and I kept our hair long.
Slipping into a beige pair of Toms that have pineapples all over them, I grab my new black and white checkered backpack and head downstairs. Dad is finishing up his breakfast because he has to leave for work, but Cam and Kaiden are both still working on theirs.
Cam greets me with a gentle smile, Kaiden doesn’t look at me at all, and Dad gives me a head bob before getting up and rinsing his plate off in the large stainless steel sink.
Their house is huge—two stories, plus a fully-finished basement that’s mostly used for storage. The outside is painted white, the windowsills on the bottom floor all have flowerpots attached with pink and purple plants, and the backyard stretches far enough to have a fire pit, garden, and grill area.
It isn’t anything like the house I grew up in, especially inside. There’s so much space to walk around in without tripping over furniture or people. Everything smells floral and fresh, and the modern matching style throughou
t every room differs from the rustic thrift store finds that litters Mama’s house.
But I like Mama’s house more.