She had her own pain from growing up without a dad. But she didn’t know what it was like to have one then not have one.
And I didn’t fault her for that. But I also couldn’t go to coffee with him.
“No, I can’t.” I cleared my throat. “I won’t.”
Her mouth turned down. I was afraid she was going to start crying again. Quickly, I yanked her into a hug.
“But you should go,” I assured her. “I’m glad he reached out to you. Better late than never.”
“Do you really mean that?”
“Everyone should know who their dad is,” I said, struggling to swallow. “I mean, do what you want. But... but don’t turn him down because of me.”
“I’ll think about it,” she whispered. “It’s been twenty-two years. He can wait a little bit longer.”
Diane, one of the owners, opened the door with a quizzical expression on her finely wrinkled face. “You ladies okay?”
“Sister moment,” Adleigh explained.
“Her boyfriend just asked her to move in with him,” I said, grinning. And ignoring the way the world had gone blurry around me. I wouldn’t cry for my dad. I wouldn’t. I’d spent enough years mourning his absence. I was not about to cry over his sudden presence.
We stepped into the small studio, and Adleigh was swept into conversation and congratulations. Everyone was happy for her. Everyone knew they were the most perfect couple.
I stood in the back and stretched, feeling sick to my stomach and wondering if I could slip out the door and head straight to Jen’s. For the second time in twenty-four hours, I needed to punch something.At least it wasn’t Charlie this time.
Instead, I pasted on a fake smile and crushed Pilates in a way that made my muscles burn and my brain only capable of focusing on pushing my body to the absolute limit. Then after class, I hugged Adleigh goodbye and spent the next two hours at Jen’s, pushing my body even further.
Today had thus far been a total shit show. But it was nothing that couldn’t be sweated out on the mat.
four
I was running lateby the time I pulled myself off the mat, got home to shower, and was ready for work, which wasn’t like me. I was never late. And I didn’t let myself get behind.
Not only was I fifteen minutes late to work, but I hadn’t done any of my to-do list items I’d planned for today.
A flustered unsettledness flapped around inside me all day. Jill, one of my trainers at Jen’s, had finally banished me from the gym. She’d gotten tired of watching me get my ass kicked and pulled the “You’re going to hurt yourself” card.Whatever, Jill. Maybe I wanted to hurt myself.
At the very least, I wanted to stop the out-of-control careening my mind had taken off in. I went to meticulous lengths to plan out my days. My nightlife job could have easily rendered the daytime useless. But early on, I had determined to still have a life during sunshine hours.
So I’d made a plan. I got up every day, no matter how late I was up, no matter how tired I got. I worked out. I ate healthy—mostly so I didn’t have to feel bad about the cocktail calories I loved to imbibe.
Also I loved cheeseburgers. And milkshakes. And pork rinds. But that was neither here nor there.
I paid my bills on time. I didn’t let laundry pile up. I kept a clean house.
I was a responsible adult with goals and dreams and a budget—that I stuck to like it was my religion.
It had side effects too. Unseen consequences that I welcomed.
For starters, I didn’t notice things like... how lonely it was sometimes. I had family goals. A five-year plan, if you will. And the man who would occupy that place had to fit a certain, well-developed criteria I’d tweaked over the years.
If you had feelings but turned them into goals with timelines and tangible steps, your more vulnerable feelings could be pacified.
Did I still sometimes feel swallowed up with loneliness? Especially, for instance, when Adleigh and Shane were all cute and cuddly on the couch, giggling about inside jokes and as comfortable as two human beings could possibly be around other human beings? No. Well, maybe. But the point was, I simply channeled those feelings into my goal, adding things like “must like to spoon” and “be taller than me so I can feel totally pulled into his massive body” to the list.
Over the years, there’d been enough bad dates and Tinder duds that I also had a clear list for everything I didn’t want too. Such as “must not pretend to drink.” Or “must not treat me like a temporary accessory.” Or “must not leave me and our precious children in the middle of the night and never come home.”
Problem solved.
