Henry’s posture wilts. He’s obviously considered this before, and that worries me.
“I don’t know. He drinks socially. He owns a sports bar. It’s part of the job.”
“Is it, though?” I ask.
He lets go of my hand to tear a hunk of crust from a second slice of pizza. He shovels it into his mouth like that’ll keep him from having to respond.
After too many quiet seconds, I whisper his name. I have no idea what I’m going to follow up with, but the solemnness of his expression pierces holes through my heart. I need him to lookat me.
He does, his eyes swirling with emotion. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Piper. Does my dad overdo it sometimes? Maybe. Do I wish he wouldn’t? Fuck yes. Is his drinking the reason he and your sister fought? I have no idea, and I don’t think it’s fair to automatically slap him with all the blame. You know Tati’s not easy to get along with. And to tell you the truth, it’s not really our place to psychoanalyze what’s going on between them. They argued. They’ll work it out or they won’t. It has nothing to do with us.”
I’m starting to feel a little prickly. “That’s easy for you to say. You weren’t called down to Tati’s office. You didn’t have to see her looking all dejected. You didn’t say the wrong thing, as usual, and end up catching her wrath.” I pick up speed. “How nice to be you. Your dad got wasted and acted like an asshole, and you’re okay with pretending that’s fine.”
He stares me down.
Once again, I’ve spewed the wrong words in the wrong way.
Once again, I’ve left careful consideration in the dust.
Once again, I’ve hurt someone I care about.
My breath catches as I realize that Henry could walk out before we’ve resolved this.
He could walk out for good.
Henry
I can’t believe she’s painting Tati as superior. I can’t believe she’s dragging my dad through the mud, hauling the fears I’ve workedmy ass off to bury into the glaring light.
Quietly, she says, “Henry, don’t leave.”
An ache fills the space behind my ribs. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re looking at me like you hate me.”
She’s so far off the mark.
I loosen my jaw and roll my shoulders. “I don’t.”
“This is too hard,” she says, staring down at her lap.
The ache becomes sharp. “Too hard, like you don’t want to see me anymore?”
Her head snaps up. “No! I don’t want to stop seeing you—not that. I just can’t understand why you’d defend your dad when not five minutes ago, you seemed pretty freaking irritated with him.”
“I’m not defending him, but I’m also not going to dump all over him because he did a stupid thing. You of all people shouldunderstand that.”
She flinches. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” I say reflexively.
“No, tell me.”
“All I’m saying is that you’re acting holier-than-thou when in reality, you’ve got some experience with making choices you regret later.”
Her mouth becomes a circle of shock. “I apologized for that night at the Marine—”
She falters, swallowing hard.
