“Being emotionally unavailable doesn’t mean someone doesn’t feel anything or that they won’t. I do think that there’s timing. There’s a right time and there’s a time that will exhaust you. Drain you. You’ll work so hard and you might even accomplish just enough that you have a glimmer of hope, but in the end, you’ll find yourself exhausted. All people can be loved, but some aren’t ready to be.”
Fuck.The last thing I want to do is start bawling, but of course I’m sitting here with my throat thick, my palm growing damp against my mom’s, blinking hard to try to clear my vision so I can evenseemy dad.
“I love you more than anything in the world, Fawnie.” He’s so soft and gentle. “I didn’t get to be your dad for a lot of years, but I’ll always be your father, and I’ll always want what’s best for you. I’m not saying I know what that is, exactly, or that I’m not open-minded. I just want to tell you that you deserve the world.”
The most fucked up thing is that Shadow has tried to tell me the very same.
“It’s my job as a father to protect you, or at least speak my mind, even when you don’t want to hear it. I’m never going to stop looking out for you, even if that’s just offering my support, or trying to pick you up when you stumble. I’ll be here in every way I can be, I promise.”
That’s not a hard no. It’s not a yes. It’s something in between. It’s my dad letting me choose my own path. Shadow too. It must be the hardest thing in the world, to be a parent. My mom and dad have both seen life and seen the world, and they know how much of it can hurt. It must be exhausting and terrible to try to shelter someone from that pain, knowing all the whilethat one day, it’s inevitable that they’ll get their heart broken, probably in multiple ways, multiple times.
“Thanks.” I let go of Mom’s hand so I can brush the tears off my cheeks. She edges closer on the couch and squeezes my knee while I sniffle. “I know I don’t have the same wisdom that you do, or the same experience. I’m going to consider everything you said.
I’m not paying my dad lip service, but at the same time, my mind is already whirring, refuting his words. I don’t accept that Shadow is emotionally unavailable. I don’t think he’s hard to love. I think that he’s been waiting for the right time to open up. He’s been waiting for the right words, the right moment, the right person.
And that’s probably what all naïve idiots have said.
The world isn’t all rosy, but some things can be simple.
I’m not trying to say that I’m anything special. I just really do think that Shadow has been waiting for the right time to open up. Not just to me, but to the club, to my dad, to the rest of the people in his life. I’m not the only person who can teach him how to love, or who can love him properly.
“Before I leave,” Mom says, voice breathy and breaking. “I want to do something for Shadow. Fawnie and I talked about this, but it’s only right that we ask you.”
Right. This is the other big thing I wanted to talk to Dad about. After what he said, it seems even more wrong to bring it up, but it’s also wrong not to.
“We don’t want to do something for him because we need to prove our gratitude,” I explain. “We want to do something kind for him that only he would appreciate. Something that sayswe’re thankful, and thankful for him. I don’t know him well enough to know what we could do that he would enjoy, or what we could get him that he likes. Material stuff seems so silly. As bad as words that are never going to be right or do any real justice to what we’re feeling.”
Dad studies us blankly.
“It’s not like picking out a cake for someone and you want to get the right flavor and color, but I guess it’s a little bit like that. You know him, you have an idea what he likes.”
Dad’s always had this thing where when the lights go on and he has an idea, they really go on. His whole face lights up. He’s practically glowing. He doesn’t hold back, even if he’s still frowning a little, and I know he feels that this is a bad idea. “Shadow always loved music. He used to play piano. He worked at a music store for years.”
What? I had no idea.
Did he stop playing because of the accident? He’s got burns on his hands, but he can ride a motorcycle and doesn’t seem to have any feeling or mobility problems.
Dad’s quiet, but his face is screamingproceed with caution.
“I have an idea,” Mom says. “I hope we can do it before I fly home, but if not, I’d like you to do it together. The three of you, or whoever else he’d like.”
Both Dad and I lean forward, ready to hear Mom’s idea. I can tell by her shy smile and the light inhereyes that I’ve so rarely seen over the years, that she has a great idea. I’m going to love it, but will Shadow?
Chapter 11
Shadow
I’ve spent the past few days toying with making a very bad decision. I’ve tried everything to work it out of my brain and out of my system. It doesn’t help that I’ve been eating those cookies for days, and every time I have one, I think about a certain set of dazzling blue eyes, perfectly soft lips, and gorgeous everything else.
I think about how Fawnie wouldn’t leave me alone. Not when I commanded. Not when I begged.
I’ve never felt more bruised in my life.
It has nothing to do with the hard paces I’ve put myself through, the scars, the burns—none of that.
When I let myself into the quiet nightclub to start the endlessly boring task of spreadsheets for the night and find myself ambushed by two women in the hall, my soul just about leaves my body. The jump-scare settles and my racing heart returns to a somewhat normal rate. I wish I could summon enough anger to tell Fawnie off for breaking her word. Again.
I open my mouth to express my annoyance that Rita obviously let them in before she left, but my stomach does something funny. It hurts and then it flutters. My chest is equally as fucked. The bruised sensation is lodged halfway down between the two. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was having a heart attack, it’s so potent.
