“Billie told Liliana one more thing. Being our dad’s child isn’t perfect. It feels empty.” He shakes his head and looks at me, eyes lost and forlorn. It’s a feeling I know too well. “Empty was the wrong word. She should have said lonely.”
I’ve felt distanced from Billie and Locke in every way. By how we were raised, and how we look, with the only connecting factors being our eyes and our last names.
When Locke says the one thing I’ve always thought about being Keller’s child, it’s the first time I see the resemblance. There are some things people won’t understand unless they experience it themselves.
I can’t stop myself from asking, “How is it lonely for you?”
It’s not sarcastic or accusing. It’s genuine curiosity.
His throat bobs. “I can’t even imagine what you went through. Just you and your mom. We didn’t know dad had another kid until I was in middle school.” It’s a punch to my gut, but not any new information. He wasn’t loud with acknowledging me, and mom told me how he hurried to cover up the HR scandal their affair caused.
What does surprise me is how Locke’s eyes gloss over, his glasses doing nothing to hide the tears gathering in his waterline.
“I’m so sorry he treated you like that. You have a right to hate us. He should have brought you into our lives when it mattered. Not after you’ve already grown up.”
Tears hit denim. Locke wipes his away before they touch the cotton of his pants, but mine drip off my chin.
No one has ever said this to me before.
“He forced us into your life. You push us away because it’s hard to see. He doesn’t give you a chance to grow into it. He’s cruel, and he doesn’t care.” He sniffles and sets his shoulders back. “I’m sorry, Grant.”
Emotion rocks me and my shoulders shake through the cries. Liliana is the closest anyone has ever gotten to understanding how I would describe my father.
“Cruel is the perfect word.”
Locke nods and presses his fingers into his eyes. “Dad forces Billie and I into things. We pursue degrees that will apply to the company. We act a certain way in public. In case someone is watching. He pretends to be a good father on the outside.”
“And at home?”
“We don’t exist to him.” Locke frowns. Tears hit cotton. “Dinners are for show.”
“But on Thursdays-”
“He said that to get you around the family. Trying to lure you in.” My stomach drops. I thought Keller was using my siblings to torture me. He’s twisted it both ways. “The mall was the first time I saw him since my acceptance dinner. Mom had a collaboration with one of the stores. He wanted the family to show. It was last minute. I think that’s why he didn’t bother asking you.”
My body is numb with the crashing realization of everything. Why Lily wanted this for me, and how wrong I’ve been about them my entire life.
“What about your mom? She doesn’t say anything about how he treats you?”
He chuckles, but it’s dripping in sarcasm. “Ask my mother what Billie’s allergic to. She doesn’t know. Then, ask her about one of her purses. She’ll answer with the name, brand, color, price.” His head shakes. “She married my father for an allowance. She has priorities. Family isn’t one of them.”
Every time I’ve been around the McCarthys, my stepmother fades in and out of memory. She’ll show up, then disappear again. But Billie and Locke stay anchored to each other, like they’re all they’ve got.
“It’s lonely.” I repeat what he said. It’s an agreement for us. “We get each other.”
Locke’s cheeks are starting to dry. He looks up at me and smiles. “Yeah.”
Everything has changed. It’s me who pities him. Locke doesn’t come off as poised or put together; just lost among the chaos of his family trauma and daddy issues. I remember the life I grew up with, my mother who loved me unconditionally and selflessly, and I realize it was me who grew up rich, not him.
“I’m sorry for misjudging you.”
I wouldn’t blame him if he got angry with me. But he doesn’t. The tears are dried now, faint red circles being the only indicator that they were there in the first place, and Locke smiles.
“Don’t be sorry. We understand one another now.”
It’s like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. I fall back into the leather fabric of my seat and grin.
“Thank you.” Two words I thought I’d never say to him. I mean it. “For being patient about everything and agreeing to come out here.”
