So I did it.
I broke his heart on purpose…and destroyed my own along with it.
Even now, five years later, I can still see the look on his face when I close my eyes. Still feel the misery of what I inflicted on him as if it only happened yesterday.
“Amanda, where are all of your things? Is that all you’re taking with you?” My father’s voice pulls me from my thoughts and I look up to see him coming down the last of the stairs before pausing in front of me.
“Remember, Father, I actually moved all of my things into storage last weekend. It’s just these two suitcases now.”
“How practical of you,” says Emily. She slowly descends the stairs like she’s making a grand entrance to her own ball. Instead of an evening gown, though, she’s wearing a coral colored romper and a matching hat with a floppy brim the size of Kansas. Her pouty lips are painted in the same shade, and her huge black square sunglasses shroud half of her face. “Have they got all of my bags in the limo, then?”
Of course they have, and she knows it. When I came down half an hour ago, the foyer was full of hers and Father’s luggage. And that’s not counting all the stuff that already had been moved to their new place. They probably made the poor driver retrieve it all from upstairs, seeing as how we haven’t had a live-in staff for years. And I sat on the bottom step and watched him haul all of it to the semi-stretch SUV parked outside the front door.
It’s funny how life changes.
My father, once beyond wealthy, had fallen from grace so to speak. Don’t get me wrong, we were still quite wealthy. But my father’s habits had taken us to a place where we’d had to cut back—a lot.
Not that he or my sister seem to notice.
This is the trouble with my father. He can’t afford to hire a limo like that. And he can’t afford this house anymore, which is why we’re leaving today, so that the hotshot producer and his family who are renting it from my father can move in this afternoon.
Father dear hasn’t been able to afford the lifestyle he leads for the past several years. But he’s in denial, even as we close the front door behind us, probably for the last time. And Emily’s denial about our situation is just as deep. Well, I should say their situation, because the one thing I’ve managed to do over the years that I’ve lived here is to save enough money so that I can chip myself free from the family iceberg before it finally crumbles.
“Are you sure we can’t drop you at the airport?” asks my father.
“No thank you. I’m really fine to drive myself, I’ll park in the long-term lot. Besides, that limo is already bursting at the seams with Emily’s fifty-seven suitcases.”
Emily sticks her tongue out at me.
“Suit yourself,” he says. “Call us tomorrow from Margot’s.”
I wave at Emily as she disappears inside the car and the driver closes the door. I kiss my father on his cheek, and he gives me a stiff hug in return. I walk slowly to my own car as I watch them drive away. I suppose I should be sad that I’m not spending Thanksgiving with them. But they won’t be here, and I have no desire to follow them to Napa Valley. I’ve decided to take my extended vacation elsewhere.
1
Amanda
Even in thedark of night, I can see the outlines of Kauai’s lush beauty. I can feel its soothing wonder take hold of me as I step out of the airport into the cool November air.
Margot and Stirling have sent a car for me instead of picking me up themselves, but she’s promised to have a beautiful meal waiting for me back at the house they’ve rented.
My driver escorts me to an SUV that’s really not much smaller than the one that transported Father and Em this morning. I shouldn’t have expected anything less, although Margot has never been pretentious about hers and Stirling’s wealth. In other words, she doesn’tactas if their money is the most important thing to them. They live well, but they also share with others. I happen to know that they chose a house big enough for all of us for the summer, but Father refused the invitation, and Emily of course just does whatever he does. I wonder if she secretly really wanted to be here, at least this weekend. Admittedly, I feel more at ease to stay a bit longer without Father and Em here.
We seem to twist and wind over the hills of the island for hours more, even though my destination is only about thirty minutes from the airport.
Finally, a soft glow pushing above the trees signals our approach to a residence. And there, tucked inside what seems to be its own private little jungle, is Margot and Stirling’s holiday vacation home.
The floodlights shining up from the ground reveal the huge home, constructed in dark wood and stone, largely Craftsman in design. It’s opulent, but not ostentatious. Every window glows with warm light from within. It’s magnificent.
Margot stands waiting in the entrance with the double doors thrown wide open before the car even pulls to a complete stop. She runs over as the driver opens my door to let me out.
“Mandy!” Margot says, and she traps my arms in her hug before I can even lift them to embrace her. She’s the only one who calls me “Mandy.” At least she is now—Damon used to call me that too. But it’s still good to hear Margot say it.
“Oof! I’m glad to see you too,” I say, and grab her waist to keep from tumbling backwards into the car.
“Let me look at you,” she says, and pulls back from me. We grasp each other’s forearms as we exchange smiles. We haven’t seen each other in months, even though we live across town from one another. Margot did a good job of distancing herself from the madness of my father. A big part of that was marrying a man she actually loves, who also meets with Father’s approval because he’s rich. So that made for an easy escape. She’s safe and busy with her own family. I really need to make more of an effort to spend time with her, I think to myself. “You look great.”
Margot got my father’s dark hair, just like Em. She keeps it cut in a short bob, parted on the side, and hanging lower in the front. A silvery-white ribbon of color adorns one side in the front.
