The next time the door opens, it isn’t Margot who comes in but my dad. He’s been in town for days, yet I feel like I’m finally seeing him not as the young dad in over his head who took off, but as the man he is now. A face with more lines than I remember, dark bags under his eyes, looser skin. His once dark hair is more salt-and-pepper now.
“Hey, kiddo,” he says. He drops into Margot’s chair. “How you holding up?”
I swallow dryly and instantly regret it. The throbbing pulse in my throat lingers a few moments before I try to speak.
“I’m okay.”
His lips pull thin. To my relief, he doesn’t call my bluff.
“Look, I wanted to say…”
I open my mouth to protest, but before I can, Dad says, “I know, I know, you’re not in the mood for it, but I need you to know something.”
I lick my lips. Wait.
Dad straightens in his chair, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry, Jo. Sorry for running, and running so far and keeping it up for so long. I know I left a lot of pain behind me when I took off, but I need you to understand it had nothing to do with you. At least, not in the way you probably think.”
“Wasn’t it?” I ask. “You didn’t want to be a dad.”
“Is that what you think?”
I say nothing.
He lets out a sad laugh. “I guess that’s on me. I wasn’t here to tell you otherwise. But I didn’t leave because I didn’t want to be your dad. I left because I didn’t know how. And I figured I’d do less damage from far away. I was immature, and I made all the wrong choices, and by the time I realized that, you and your mom and Margot and Jasper had your own lives. So I stayed away.”
I can’t bring myself to speak. I don’t have the energy for placation.
“I messed up, kid. Maybe if I’d stuck around, none of this would have happened. Maybe Blackridge would still be a footnote.” He shakes his head. “Butwould-bes don’t matter. And I’m not running anymore. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you kids. And it starts now.” He smiles, and there’s something shy about it. I can see the person he used to be, the boy who was in too deep before he realized where he was, who ran as fast as he could. “I have a job interview next week. Evergreen High is looking for a music teacher.”
“Evergreen? But that’s—”
“Less than a half hour from here,” he says.
“You…you—” I stop, unsure where I’m going. Of all the things I expected him to say, this isn’t it.
“I’m staying,” he says.
My lips part, and I zip them back shut. Tears prick the backs of my eyes.
Dad reaches out, takes my hand, squeezes it.
I’m saved from fully dissolving into tears by Margot’s return. She comes back with a giant cup of soda in her hands, sipping as she steps back into the room. She’s still in her pajamas, her hair is a tangled mess, and the bags under her eyes are as pronounced as my own. But she grins when she sees me.
Dad pushes to his feet. “I’m going to check in with your mom and Paige,” he says, squeezing Margot’s shoulder as he slips past us and out into the hall.
Margot reclaims her chair. “You heard, I’m guessing.”
I nod.
“This whole thing really freaked him out.” Margot drops her gaze. “It freaked us all out.”
I reach out to take her hand. I have to use my nondominant one, since the cast on my right leaves my arm in an awkward angle.
She gives me a reassuring smile.
I frown at her. “Is that my…”
She looks down at her hoodie—my hoodie, actually—and arches her brows.
