My hands flew to my mouth.
There, on the tiny snow-covered bistro table on my balcony, was an ice sculpture of a swan.
“Came right off the dessert buffet.” He put a hand up. “Don’t worry, I didn’t steal it. I donated a couple hundred bucks for it. They were more than happy to let me have it.”
I shook my head. “You carried that up here?” I breathed.
“It’ll be there until spring. Every time you see it, I want you to remember that I put that dripping ice cube in my coupe for you.”
My heart tugged. It reached out for him uselessly like arms trying to stretch across an ocean.
He was perfect. He was perfect in every single way.
All I ever wanted was to live. To grow old and have more time. And now I had something else I wanted as much as that.
I wanted him.
And neither one was probably ever going to be mine.
CHAPTER 14
THESE PEOPLE ARE EATING DINNER IN A DUMP AND YOU’LL NEVER BELIEVE WHY!
VANESSA
We pulled into Dad’s driveway. It was 6:30 on Saturday night. We’d left Grace with Yoga Lady. I didn’t want her to breathe the black mold and dust mites that Adrian and I had signed up to endure for the next two hours.
Adrian put the car in park and looked up at the house. “Are we really eating dinner in there?” he asked grimly.
I looked over at him. “I thought you said you were willing to get one of the heps with me?”
He snorted.
I pulled my Carmex out of my bra. “I don’t trust Dad to cook food that won’t kill us, but I trust Sonja,” I said, applying the lip balm and putting the cap back before tucking it back into my shirt. “I think it’ll be okay.”
I peered back through the windshield. The Christmas lights were on. I’d like to say this was Dad being festive, but this was actually Dad being festive like four years ago and they never came down. For just one month of the year, Dad’s house didn’t piss off the neighbors.
“What does your dad do for a living?” he asked.
I shook my head. “Now? Nothing. Not really. He used to be an accountant. He’s really smart. Then he found out that he could sell all the random stuff he liked to collect, so he quit his job to hawk things on eBay and Craigslist full-time. Dad’s not very handy, though, and most of what he tried to sell was junk, so he never made enough. That’s when the whole clutter thing went from bad to worse, because everything became something that could be ‘fixed and sold.’” I put my fingers in quotes. “He’d bring anything home. A toilet sitting on the curb. Broken luggage, someone’s old ice skates.”
“Bikes.”
I scoffed. “Soooo many bikes.”
I sighed. “I know I give him a lot of shit, but I think he did the best he could.” I paused. “It wasn’t easy living through the things he did. I think enough tragedy can unravel anyone.”
Adrian turned to me. “I think it depends on who you are. You know, you’ve been through all the same things he has and you’re not unraveled.”
I smiled softly at him. “Yeah. Well, I think that stuff tends to get worse the older you get. Let’s just hope I live long enough for it to really hit me. Turn me into that eccentric aunt who wraps things from her house to give away as gifts at Christmas.”
He laughed.
I nudged him. “Hey, so when do I get to meet your crazy family?” I asked. “It doesn’t seem fair that mine gets all the attention.”
“My whole family’s in Nebraska now. My mom moved there with her husband and my grandma in October. Richard and Mom invited me down for Christmas, but I’m not going.”
“How come?”
He shook his head. “I don’t feel comfortable. I don’t like Richard.”
“Oh yeah? Why not? Is he a dick?”
He laughed a little at my joke. Then he paused for a moment before letting out a long breath. “Richard is my dad.”
My mouth fell open. “What? Like…the dad who took off and left the family? That dad?”
He nodded. “That dad. They got back together a year ago. They’re remarried now.”
I blinked at him. “Oh my God,” I breathed.
He scoffed. “Yeah.”
“I mean…why? What was his reason for leaving in the first place?”
He shook his head at the windshield. “He had an affair with some woman he worked with. Left us for her. It didn’t last.”
I sat back in my seat. “Wow.”
“Yeah. Mom was a mess. For years. In and out of depression. I had to do everything for her. Pay the bills, clean the house. I couldn’t even go to college out of state. I couldn’t leave her.”
I shook my head. “Did he pay support?”
He nodded. “He did. I’ll give him that. Paid child support and alimony—kept paying even when he didn’t have to. Tried to keep up a relationship with me, but I had zero interest in it.”
I blew air through pursed lips. “Yeah, I can see that.” I peered up at him. “It’s kind of romantic though. That they circled back to each other.”
He stared at me.
“What?”
His jaw twitched. “You sound like Mom.”
I shrugged. “Well, it’s true. People fuck up. And it sounds like he realized it. Maybe they were soul mates and neither of them ever found that same happiness with anyone else.”
“I don’t believe in soul mates,” he said, his tone clipped.
I scoffed. “Well, Dad doesn’t believe in expiration dates, but that doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
He barked out a dry laugh.
“Is your mom happy?” I asked.
He looked at the windshield and nodded reluctantly. “Yes. I guess she is.”
I shrugged again. “Good. You should forgive him.”
His head snapped back to me. “What?”
“Why not? I mean, you don’t have to like him. You don’t have to trust him or forget what he did or follow him on Facebook. But he’s in your mom’s life now and holding on to this vendetta is only going to hurt her and your grandmother. I mean, you won’t even go see them for Christmas? Why? Because he’s there? Fuck him. Go see your family.”
He blinked at me.
I shook my head. “Wow. Somebody in this car never had to ignore their drunk misogynistic uncle at Thanksgiving, and it really shows.” I pivoted in my seat to look at him head-on. “Adrian. Hate is exhausting. Life is too short to hate. Let it go. And while you’re at it, it might help you to try to see him as a whole person who isn’t all black or white. You know, he can be your dad who loves you and your mom, and someone who did something really crappy to hurt you guys once. He can be both.”
I watched some sort of internal struggle move across his face. “So just…what? Show up for Christmas?”
“Yeah. Why not? I’ll go with you if you want. If it sucks, we’ll leave.”
He wrinkled his forehead. “You’ll come?”
I shrugged. “Sure.”
He nodded at the house. “What about your dad? Won’t he be alone for Christmas if you’re not here?”