I could feel Maia’s gaze on me, watching from the house.
Under Alfie’s observation, I’d called my father and asked him to have lunch with me this week and he’d gratefully accepted. I hadn’t been certain about seeing him when I asked and I was less certain now. Still, the back patio of Harrington seemed like a safe place to have whatever this conversation would turn into. Maybe I’d cry, maybe I’d flip the table and throw the tea set at him.
In the distance I could hear work continuing on, some inside the house, some on set for the show. But here, here it was painfully silent. I hated him. I hated him so much.
“I…uh…I’m not surprised you turned out green-fingered. Your mother was a magician in the garden.” He gave me a tentative smile. I hated looking at him. All I could see was my own eyes. “I googled you, I hope you don’t mind. I saw that sculpture you made for the show? There was a picture of you next to it, you had a rosette.”
“The Chelsea flower show?”
“Yeah, you made a sculpture out of flowers...I didn't know you could do something like that. You’re very talented. You don’t get that from me.” He gave a short laugh, obviously trying to lighten the mood.
“I know.” I had no idea what I got from him. Except from my looks.
He sighed. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say here, Lola. You said you wanted to see me?—”
“I said I was willing to see you. Big difference.”
“Fair enough.” He ran a hand over his chin. “I’ve always been good at leaving, never very good at staying. I really don’t expect you to forgive me, you know. If you just want to get some answers and then never speak to me again, I understand.”
I wished it was that easy. What questions were you supposed to ask when none of the answers would make you feel any better?
“How could you just leave?” The question was out before I could stop it. Twenty seven year old me didn’t have questions, but four year old me did.
“Because I wasn’t good enough to stay. I know that doesn’t make sense to you.”
He was right, it didn’t make sense. It sounded like bullshit. “Why don’t you just say you were being selfish?”
“Alright, I was being selfish.” He held up his hands. “I left because it was easier. I’ve done that my whole life, picked the easiest option and it’s made me a regretful old man.”
“Natalie will forgive you.” From the way she talked, she’d already forgiven him.
“Maybe, but I’ll never get that time back. I’ll never undo the damage.” He studied me. Not with x-ray vision like Alfie but like a half-blind man that could barely make out my face. “I want to be a part of your life in whatever way works for you.”
“What if no way works for me?”
“Then I’ll accept that. I knew you’d be the tougher sell. Your sister was always softer than you.”
“I was four when you left. Don’t act like you know who I am.” I could see my words stung. I hated that I cared. “Did you love my mother?”
“Very much. I loved Natalie’s mother too but that relationship drowned me. I should have treated her better than just upping and leaving but here we are. I arrived in England, met Judith and she was just beautiful…a beautiful, sweet woman. She made me happy.”
“Then why leave?” My voice broke, betraying my pain and I cursed myself for it.
“I’ve got some demons, Lola. I wasn’t always good to be around. I tried to suppress it because I wanted to be with your mum and with you, but my head was a mess. I was always pushing your mum away, drinking too much, cheating on her?—”
“You cheated?” A fresh wave of anger washed over me.
“I’m not surprised she didn’t tell you. She wouldn’t have wanted you to think badly of me. Yes, I cheated, trying to get her to give up but she wouldn’t quit me, said I needed help. Which I did. I couldn’t see it twenty years ago so I quit her instead. I felt like I was doing you both a favour by staying away.”
I looked at my father. As hurt as I was, he seemed to be telling the truth. That just made this all the harder. It was pointless to be angry with someone who was already punishing themselves.
“Why didn’t you get help back then?”
“Different decade, Lola. Different culture. I didn’t grow up with…what do they call it? Mental health awareness? Therapy was for broken people, a shameful thing.”
“And now?”
“Now, I’m…I can’t say I’m fixed but I’m better. I’m sober, stable, no more gambling. I wish I had anything to offer my girls but my hands are empty. All I can offer is an apology and a promise to do right from now on.”
