I’m glad he doesn’t try to greet me with a hug. I’m punishing him by keeping his loving affection to a minimum.
He slides into the booth across from me, laying his napkin over his lap. “You look so different compared to summer.”
I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean. Maybe he thinks I look older because he can see how much his infidelity has aged me.
“Summer was weeks ago. Hardly enough time to change.”
He picks up the menu and scans it. “How’re classes? The daycare?”
“Everything is fine.”
He shakes his head like he does when he’s proud. “I can still remember you babysitting the neighborhood kids and how their parents raved about you.”
He’s beating around the bush, specifically not talking about the elephant in the room.
“Nothing has made your mom and I prouder.”
The mention of her makes me snap below the surface. I hate that she even comes out of his mouth. How dare he talk about her as if he wasn’t sneaking around behind her back.
A waitress introduces herself and asks what we’d like to drink. She’s gone a second later, and I can’t help but stare at the man across from me.
Dad’s dark hair is swept to the side and out of his eyes. He’s always been adamant about keeping it longer. I can’t remember a time when it was shorter, but that’s not what’s important here.
Does he not care what he’s done or the turmoil his actions will cause once Mom and Olive find out the truth? I wonder if hethinks about that, if he’s considered telling them or if he’s fine living one day to the next without them knowing.
And not to mention, it was my birthday for Christ’s sake.
My birthday.
When the waitress delivers our drinks, we order lunch, though I’m not very hungry. Like a bubble that’s landed on the ground, my appetite popped at the sound of him mentioning the woman he’s been married to for decades. The woman who raised me.
Then I see it, the serious expression that crosses his features after the waitress walks off with the menus. He’s ready to talk business. As if he walked into a meeting with a new client, he builds his armor and readies himself, clasping his fingers together in front of him.
I’m ready to shrivel up like a prune.
“We should talk, Violet.” He tackles it head on, his eyes focused on me like a bald eagle ready to pluck its dinner from a field of options. He wants me to entertain this conversation in a public setting, so I don’t lose my cool. As if my heart isn’t already bent out of shape and racing like a wild horse.
“About what?”
I don’t want to sweep it away, but he’s a proud man and it’s taken him this long to address it. I want him to take accountability for his actions, but I’m also not sure if I’m ready to talk about it. It kills me to know that he’s betrayed mom’s trust. That I spent years looking up to this man, only ever putting him in the brightest of lights, to find out he never deserved it.
“The summer didn’t end quite the way I hoped it would,” he admits.
My eyebrows pull together. “My summer was fine, was yours not?”
He takes a sip from his glass and glances at the table. He must be assessing what I’ll say next. I’m being passive aggressive when I shouldn’t be, but I can’t help it.
When all is said and done, I’ll lap up the sweet victory of him admitting his wrongs like a thirsty dog in the middle of a heatwave.
“Don’t play that game with me,” he says, that stern tone coming out of him like it did when Olive and I were teens and gave him a run for his money. “We both know what happened, and it needs to be addressed before?—”
“Before what?” I interject, my blood rising to a boil. “Before Mom finds out you’ve been screwing your secretary behind her back? Before Olive finds out that Daddy isn’t the man behind the part that he’s played all these years?” I choke out a whisper. “Are youevergoing to come clean?”
He clears his throat. “It’s not that simple.”
I laugh at that. “How? How isn’t it the simplest damn thing in the world?”
“You may not like what I’ve done, but I’m still your father. Some respect would be nice.”
