Irritation fizzled in my blood. “And you think starting a relationship with the dad who abandoned me is the way to do that?”
“No.” Her answer was firm, strong. “Not a relationship. Honey, I only want you to have a relationship with Chris if that’s whatyouwant. But coffee does not mean he gets a foothold in your day-to-day. Coffee means you might get to say some things you’ve always wanted to. Coffee means you might get answers to questions you’ve been asking for a long time. Coffee means coming face-to-face with a terrible memory, putting flesh and blood to a missing person flyer in your heart. Coffee means as little or as much as you want it to.”
Her words sent chills skittering over my skin. I pictured Chris’s face—from a seven-year-old’s memory—on a tattered missing person flyer pinned to the fleshy part of my heart. She was right.
“I don’t know how to be around him, though,” I confessed in a voice I reserved for my mom alone. “Like maybe I can figure out what to say to him. Or yell at him...” I laughed because that was what polite people did. They made jokes. Their acts of violence tended to be hyperbole. “But I don’t know how to exist around him.”
My mom thought about it for a minute and finally landed on, “Carefully, Ada. Exist around him carefully.” She let out another slow breath into the speaker. “Your sister barrels into things with her signature enthusiasm. But trust your instincts, my careful, careful child. Test the water first. Slow and steady wins the race.”
My mother added clichés the same way she answered phones—in a rush and with several supporting examples.
“Good advice, Mama.”
“Just because he’s asked for a place in your life today doesn’t mean you have to give him one. You make the rules in your life, Ada. He gave up his role in that long ago.”
The tears were back. Hot and itchy. I knew she’d give good advice. Even if it was also hard to hear. Even if it was how I already felt.
“I’m sorry about this,” I told her after we’d both gotten lost in our heads. “I’m sorry he’s asking for attention after all these years.”
Her voice sounded thick through the phone, like she was holding back tears too. “I would never keep him out of your lives,” she promised. “I hope you know that. You’re as much him as you are me. And I would be lying if I didn’t also admit I’ve wanted this for a very long time. Children should know their dads. Children should never be abandoned.” She sucked in a trembling breath. “But, Ada, that man burned my trust a long time ago. I just... I just want you to be careful. I want you to protect yourself and your sister. And most of all, if you do decide to let him back into your life, I want him to earn it. You two are the most precious people I’ve ever known. And if he gets to be a part of your lives, he better goddamn work for it.”
I smiled. My mother hardly ever cussed. And it was a little awkward to hear her do it now, but I liked what she was saying. “I agree with you.”
She laughed. “Good.”
“I need to get ready for work now.”
“All right, darling girl. Go conquer the world. Call me soon.”
“Love you, Mom.”
“Love you too, babe.”
I hung up the phone and stared at the wall for a minute. I hadn’t realized how much I’d needed her blessing to move forward with coffee. But her permission unlocked something wound tight and terrified in my chest.
And more than that, she was right. If Chris wanted to come back into our lives, he better damn well earn his place here.
ten
I wasa ghost at work that evening. A flickering phantom. Friday night was always our biggest turnout, but the gravity of the text exchange and emotional conversation with my mom weighed too heavily for me to be fully present. I missed drink orders, messed up tickets, and spilled a dirty martini, glass and all, in a way that not only splashed half the bar with olive juice and gin but also shattered the glass.
It had taken twenty minutes to clean up. I had to comp their entire ticket, which got me even further behind.
I just wanted the day to be over already.
Eliza found me near the end of the night. Pockets of guests still dotted the dining room, but we’d slowed significantly since our rush.
“Hey, gorgeous,” she said, smiling brightly.
It took me a minute to figure out she was talking to me. “Hey.”
“Do you have a second to talk?”
“Uh, sure.”
She tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Let’s go to the office.”
Dread pooled low in my gut. “Uh-oh.”
