Dad looks at her with an amused look in his eyes. He turns back to me. “So, what did Riley help with? I’m sure whatever she did will really help you out.”
I peek at her from the couch. She cups her glass in her hands while sitting at the kitchen island.
"Do you want to do the honors?" I ask her.
She gives me a smirk, propping her arms on the counter and clearing her throat. "All I did was create folders, both physically and on the computer, that will help with organization."
"Go on," I tease, raising my eyebrows.
Her eyes focus on me, a gentle grin on her face, and then back to my parents. "I also created spreadsheets. Onefor vendors and one for accounting purposes." She looks at Dad. "And don't worry, your ledger is perfectly safe."
"I swear, he treats that thing like it's his third child," Mom says.
Dad laughs. "I'm never getting rid of it. You can bury it with me."
Mom joins him, and my face twists in confusion and annoyance. Ellie doesn't laugh. And neither does Riley.
My parents look at us before Dad says, "Too soon?"
Ellie shakes her head. "That's not funny."
"Oh, come on. You know I'm joking."
"Well, it's a shitty joke."
"Hey," my parents say in unison.
"What?" Ellie snaps.
"Ellie Alexandra Thompson,” Mom says, “don't you speak to us like that."
"Are you kidding? Dad can make death jokes, and you just laugh at them? Especially after he told the doctor he isn't going to have the surgery?" She glares at Dad.
"Watch it," Mom chides.
Ellie sits back on the couch, crossing her arms while looking up at the ceiling. It’s like she’s fifteen again, and our parents told her she’s grounded. Her eyes flutter like she’s about to cry.
My attention shifts back to Dad. His face is calm and neutral, as if his daughter didn't just lash out at him.
He takes a breath, presses his lips together, and shrugs. "She's allowed to feel this way."
He pats Mom’s hand.
Mom’s lips are pressed into a line. "And that's fine, but she is not allowed to talk to us this way. Apologize to your father, right now.”
I look at Riley, who isn't fazed by this, considering whoher mother is. There’s no emotion behind her eyes. She looks at me, and I mouth,are you okay?She waves me off.
She tilts her head toward Dad, gesturing for me to talk to him. I forgot why we were here for a minute until Ellie mentioned the surgery. All my anger dissipated the moment I walked in the house.
I can't be mad at Dad. He already has one kid who isn't happy about his choice. But what about Mom? She seems to be taking everything well. I can only assume she's putting on a happy face when she's with him. I know Mom well enough to know when she's freaking out inside, but this is one time I can't read her.
I adjust myself on the couch and clear my throat. "That's actually why I stopped by, Dad. To talk to you about this surgery." I continue to pick at my cuticles, fighting the urge to do something with my hands.
"I'm listening," he says.
"Why did you choose not to have it? The doctor said if you do, it can help in the long run. I feel like there will be so much you'll miss out on. Ellie getting married and having kids. Me getting married and having kids." I force myself not to look at Riley.
"I want my kids to meet their grandpa. It wouldn't be fair for them not to know why you were such a great dad.” My eyes prickle, and my throat bobs. “My stories wouldn't justify it."
