“I’ll be as foolish as I want to be,” I replied. “It’s a free country.”
“Fine. If you don’t care about money, then you won’t care if I cut you off. Because I’m telling you, I won’t have a gold digger in this family. If you want him, you’re on your own.”
“He’s not a gold digger!” I shouted. “Oh God, Dad! How could you even think that? He loves me. Is it that hard for you to imagine that someone might actually love me for who I am?”
I grabbed Ziggy’s leash off the coat tree and strode to the door. Ziggy followed, tail wagging, bless his sweet, innocent heart. I hooked the leash to his collar.
“Olivia, please don’t go,” my mother pleaded, following me out of the apartment, into the vestibule.
I pressed the elevator button repeatedly. “I have to, Mom. I love him.”
“Please, understand that your father just wants to protect you.”
“I don’t need protecting. I can think for myself. And I don’t care about my allowance. Dean matters more to me.”
The elevator doors opened, and I stepped on with Ziggy. My mother fingered the pendant around her neck, and her eyes grew wet with tears. As the doors closed, I watched my father step into the vestibule, take hold of my mother’s arm, and try to lead her back into the apartment, but she slapped his hand away.
The last thing he said was, “Don’t worry, she’ll come around.”
The floor shuddered beneath my feet, and the elevator began its descent.
An hour later, I stood on a New Jersey sidewalk with Ziggy at my side, blinking up at the front of Dean’s apartment building. After I’d left my parents’ place, I hadn’t known what to do. I couldn’t go back to my own apartment because they didn’t allow dogs, and besides that, I was fit to be tied. Furious and frantic about what to do next . . . where to go. Naturally, the first thing I did was call Dean from a pay phone and tell him what had happened with my father. He told me to come straight over, so there I stood, still shaky from being cast adrift by my family.
At least I had Dean. He was my life raft now.
I gave Ziggy a pat on the head, entered Dean’s building, walked up to his apartment, and knocked on the door. He opened it immediately and invited me inside.
While Dean hugged me, Ziggy was impatient to be greeted as well. He pawed at Dean’s thigh and turned circles with excitement. It was a much-needed tension breaker, and we laughed as Dean got down on his knees and let Ziggy lick his chin. Ziggy cried and whimpered with happiness at the sight and smell of Dean. I couldn’t blame him. I felt the same sense of relief.
“I don’t think he likes anyone as much as you,” I said. “Obviously, he’s a good judge of character.”
“I don’t know about that,” Dean replied, rising to his feet. “Maybe it’s that can of beef stew I gave him last week. He’s probably been dreaming about it ever since.”
Dean gave me a meaningful look, took hold of my hand, and led me to the sofa. Ziggy followed and lay down at our feet.
“Rough day for you,” he said as he pushed a lock of hair behind my ear. “Are you okay?”
With that simple question, all my anger drained away. I let my head fall forward onto his shoulder. “I am now,” I replied, closing my eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it? Tell me what happened?”
My thoughts went immediately to Dean’s father, the death of that young family, and the new drunk driving charge, which was what had sparked my father into action.
I sat back and took hold of Dean’s hand. “It was horrible. The worst conversation we’ve ever had.”
“I’m so sorry. I feel like it’s my fault. I don’t want to cause a permanent rift between you and your dad.”
“It’s not your fault. He’s always looked down on anyone who wasn’t born into privilege. But I never thought he would be that way with someone I cared so much about.”
We both slouched low on the sofa and snuggled close.
“I have to tell you something,” I said hesitantly as I thought of Dean’s father and the latest DUI. “Have you spoken to your family today?”
Dean shook his head and rubbed my shoulder.
I sat up and laid my open palm on his chest. “There was a reason my father wanted to speak to me today, because of something that happened last night. I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re going to hear about it sooner or later, so . . .” I swallowed over a thick lump in my throat. “Your father got into another car accident last night when he was drinking. He was arrested and . . .” I paused. “It was a very bad accident. A family was killed. Both parents and two children.”
Dean stared at me with wide eyes. He blinked a few times, expressionless, and then his face went white as a bone. “Where did you hear this? From your father?”
“Yes. Apparently, he’s been snooping around your personal life, looking for a reason to make me stop seeing you. But I don’t care about that, Dean. I mean, I do care, but I know it’s not your fault that your father is an alcoholic or that he’s probably going to prison again. You’re not him. You’re you. And you’re a good person.”
With a pained expression, Dean struggled to stand up.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“I need some water.”
Ziggy’s ears perked up when Dean stood. Ziggy followed Dean into the kitchen, where he filled a glass of water at the sink, took a few sips, then filled a bowl with water for Ziggy and set it on the floor.
“I always knew this would happen again,” Dean said. “Dad got behind the wheel all the time after he’d been drinking. I should have done something. I’m a therapist, for crying out loud. I could have helped him or at least kept an eye on him.”
“Only if you had stayed there,” I replied, rising from the sofa and joining him in the kitchen. “And even then, it might not have made a difference. You don’t know.”
Dean bent forward with his hands on his knees, looking as if he was going to be sick.
“Can I get you anything?” I asked, rubbing his back.
“No.” He breathed with intentional control, deep and slow. “No wonder your father doesn’t want you to be with me. I can’t blame him. I’m bad news.”
“No, he’s wrong,” I replied. “I need to be with you because . . . because I love you.”
Dean went still. Then he straightened and looked at me with something that resembled despair. “I love you too.”
I wished I saw joy in his eyes, but I saw only uncertainty and regret. It sent a cold shiver of dread down my spine.
“Please don’t do that,” I said. “Don’t think for one second that you’re not good enough for me or that I’d be better off without you. I wouldn’t be. I’m in love with you, and I need to be with you.” I laid both my hands on his chest. “I have my own money that my father has no control over. Quite a bit of it, actually. My mother gave it to me when I was eighteen. It’s enough to live on, at least for a while. So it doesn’t matter what my father thinks or if he cuts me off. We’d be okay.”
Ziggy drank all the water in the bowl, then looked up at each of us in turn, water dripping from his jowls.