Violet clears her throat, indicating for my father to speak.
“It’s good we’re here. Gives us a chance to talk. I didn’t want to disturb you the past few weeks, as I know your focus has been on Brielle and her recovery.”
“Yes, and?”
“At the hospital, it occurred to me that you might still hold a grudge against me for how things went down back then.”
“That’s an understatement.” I don’t even look at him.
My sister kicks me under the table, informing me that I should be more open to this conversation. Looking up, I see that my father hasn’t lost his focus on me.
“I can’t change the past, but I need to point out that I think you and Brielle together now makes sense.”
My head perks up in surprise. “You what?” I need to double-check.
“You have my full support.”
“Why now?” I’m wary.
“You’re a real adult now, and Connor is older. You should get everything you worked for, including Brielle.” An audible breath escapes him, and he seems surprised by his own admission.
My eyes search Margo and Violet, and they both give a reassuring smile.
“Didn’t Brielle ruin my life, according to you?”
A sneer plays on his lips. “I did say something like that once, but the reality is that it takes two to create a pregnancy, plus people change, and Brielle has always been a sweet person.”
Violet shakes her head at me. “Don’t question the why, but he is genuine, we talked about it.”
“I think you have enough on your plate, and I don’t want you to think I’m an extra block,” my father adds.
I rub my forehead with my hand before taking a deep breath, wondering if aliens landed somewhere.
“Sometimes reconciliation is easy and simple,” Margo mumbles to me.
Everyone waits for me to say something, and I’m just struggling to digest the last few minutes.
Maybe they’re right, sometimes we don’t need to question more.
“I appreciate it,” I manage to say. My eyes meet my father’s. I’m still skeptical yet convinced enough. To be honest, other than the moment when I told him Brielle was pregnant, he’s been supportive for almost everything.
Violet claps her hands together. “Hug it out. You know you want to.”
Slightly awkward, but what the hell. Margo is right and we should take the wins without question sometimes.
Reluctantly, or rather unsure, I stand at the same time as my father, and we hug it out. In the awkward-as-fuck, half-a-hug kind of way. I’m not sure why some odd dose of chemicals hits me, but I’m slightly affected, not in a bad way.
“See? I needed this before I move. You get the girl, closure with your father, and a fuck-you to Jim. I hope you all visit me down in Florida.” Margo drinks from her tea.
We all look to one another and have to smile.
* * *
Later,when I’m back home and staring out my living room window with a glass of scotch hanging from my hand, I take the energy of the day and decide to extend an olive branch.
Phoning Brielle’s father, I wait for him to pick up. The rim of the glass hits my lips for one last sip.
“Ford,” her father greets me.
