He shrugged. “Why would I make nice with the man who hurt my daughter?”
“Why do you think—did he say something?”
My father bent over to pull the rolling pin out of the drawer and gave the mound of pastry a whack, as if letting it know winter was coming.
“He mentioned the job you’re applying for at Harvard.”
That snitch. “I haven’t made any decisions yet. I just want to keep my options open.”
He nodded. “When you were a kid, you used to invent stories for your slug friends. Send them on adventures. Give them happily-ever-afters.”
Bit of a non sequitur, but okay. “Until I decided to release them back into the garden and set them free. They were flesh-and-blood creatures. It wasn’t fair of me to impose my wishes or desires on them. Besides, slugs and snails don’t experience emotions like we do. They have nerve endings rather than brains. All instinct.”
Like Jason. But he was smart, too. Much more so than he gave himself credit.
“Guess what I’m saying is that you had quite the imagination,” Dad went on. “Your mind was open to possibilities then, and sure, I know you’ve grown up and put away childish things as the poem says.”
“Bible, actually.”
“Oh yeah?” We weren’t religious, but I knew that much. “Anyway, what I’m trying to remind you of is that you used to have dreams and desires. Not just basic needs. Not just living inside your head. You spend a lot of time there, sprite. And it’s served you well, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting things for yourself.”
“That’s where the baby comes in, Dad. She’ll make me happy.”
He studied me with his usual gravity. “Your mother has never understood you, Franky. So why would you listen to her?”
“I-I don’t. With Mom, it’s in one ear?—”
“Where it scrambles your brain for a bit, and then out the other. She never encouraged you. She had a certain idea of what a little girl should be, and you weren’t it. And I worry you carry some of that weight with you. Some of that pain. Sure, you’re professionally successful and you’re about to have a baby you’ve longed for. You have people who love you to the moon and back, but you still let your mom put you in a box when it came to your lovability. She told you that you were kooky and weird, and you took that inside you and let it fester.”
I set an extra-long apple peel aside. In Dutch folklore, it was said that throwing a long strip of peel over your shoulder would reveal the initial of your true love. No matter how hard I wished, this one looked more like a G.
“I don’t mind being the weirdo. I accept that.”
“I know you do. You’re the most interesting person I know. But sometimes I think you don’t want to be seen as interesting or kooky. Sometimes you just want to be seen the same as everyone else. Worthy of the things everyone else deserves. Like a boyfriend. Or a husband. Or someone who loves you for who you are instead of how it reflects off them. Your mother is a selfish woman, and she only ever cared about how good you made her feel. How you reflected off her.”
“But … she’s not wrong, Dad. I’m not the kind of girl who gets the hot guy or the hunky athlete. Yes, I fell for Jason against my better judgment. But I never really believed. Something inside me knew it was utter nonsense. Jason wants to be a dad, and I happened to be on the spot to fulfill that need. Just as he happened to be available when I needed him. To make a baby. Expecting anything more is like inventing fairytales for my slugs and snails.”
He looked at me with such love I wanted to melt on the spot, preferably into his strong arms.
“We all have dreams, goals, desires, needs. It’s okay to want things. The way I grew up, thrown from pillar to post with my parents, half the time in Scotland, half in Canada—the minute I had a chance, I bought this house. Before I had even met Kendra, I had it because I knew it was the first building block to what I wanted. Family. A life that was more than hockey. More than alcohol. I wanted to fill the rooms with laughter and games and little girls who liked dolls and science, music and slugs. But it all started with a wish, sprite.”
He winked at me. “You’re never too old for that.”
Chapter Forty-Nine
Jason
* * *
The front door of Theo’s house opened. I looked down to find Tilly dressed in a tutu and a tiara, with a star-tipped wand in her hand.
“Hey, Tillington, what’s shakin’?”
“Uncle Jason!” She reached for me, and I dropped my shopping bag to pick her up.
“You’re so big. How did that happen?”
“Fairy magic.” She shoved her hand in my face. “I have my bracelet.”
