She raked a hand through her hair. “Shep wanted to tell Autumn, but Autumn had been calling Greg ‘dad’ since she was a baby. She wouldn’t have understood why her sister got to keepcalling Greg ‘dad’ and she couldn’t. So when Amber would go spend weekends with Greg, Autumn would go too. Shep agreed to keep it quiet.”
I tapped my chin, wading through my utter disbelief of this family. “So instead of having one hard conversation becauseyoufucked up, you lied to your daughter for thirty years and let her sistertortureher over it.”
Cynthia looked like she wanted to crawl under a rock. “It was a complicated situation, Ryan. Itisa complicated situation. It was hard for Greg to see Autumn have such a natural relationship with Shep.”
“I’ll deal with him later,” I snapped. “It can’t be that complicated ifshecould comprehend it.” I jerked my thumb toward Amber.
Cynthia sighed. “Amber found out when she was fifteen and heard Shep and me arguing about it.”
The fucking audacity . . .
“Autumn doesn’t get Shepandmy dad,” Amber snapped. “It’s not fair.”
“Do you think it was fair for Autumn to lose her dad without ever knowing who he really was?” I was done here. I needed to go on a run or lift some heavy shit to clear my head. I had to figure out how to tell her. But no matter what I said, it would crush her. “It makes sense now why Autumn has a good heart,” I said. “I couldn’t figure it out before, because she’s nothing like you two. She really is Shep’s daughter.”
The fury hadn’t dissipatedby the time I pulled into Lisa Winslow’s driveway. She was outside, working in her flower beds, when I parked behind her car.
She stood and turned, spotting me and then looking at the passenger’s side expectantly.
“Ryan,” she said as she tugged off her gardening gloves and set them beside a host of bulbs waiting to go in the ground.
I slammed the car door and walked up the drive.
When she realized I was alone, that expectation morphed to shock and realization. “You know.” It was both a question and a statement.
There it was. The confirmation I needed.
“Why didn’t you tell her?”
It all made sense now. The box filled with mementos that Shep had saved. The ultrasounds hidden at the bottom. Lisa had tried to lead Willow to the truth.
“Let’s go inside,” Lisa said as she toed off her boots. “I need a drink. Looks like you need one too.”
We reconvened in the living room. Lisa handed me a glass of lemonade as I stared at the bookshelf shrine to Willow’s writing career.
“Sadly, I’m fresh out of tequila,” she said as she sidled up to me. “I think we could use some right now.” She took a long drink from her glass. “When did she find out?”
“Willow doesn’t know,” I said. “Yet.” Quickly, I unpacked what had happened over the last few months, what went down at Greg Hart’s office, and what I found out when I confronted Cynthia and Amber at the salon.
Lisa listened to every detail and never once looked surprised. When I finished, it was her turn. “The night Shep and I met, he told me that he had a daughter. It was one of the first things out of his mouth. He was so proud of her. So proud to be in her life, even though she had no idea.” Her smile was sad. “Every time he called, he told me what she was doing or something she had accomplished. Sometimes he’d ask for advice on how to navigate the ins and outs of being a dad to a teenage daughter.Once we got to know each other a little more, he explained Cynthia’s position and what had been established as the norm since Autumn was born. Apparently, when they were together, Shep had told Cynthia that Autumn was one of his favorite names, and that it would be what he’d name his daughter if he ever had one. So Cynthia named her that. It was . . . a cruel honor and a tender insult all in one.” Lisa laughed. “That was our first real fight. I had never seen a man so into being a dad. I told him it was ridiculous that Autumn had been kept in the dark, and that he should just tell her. But he was insistent on respecting Cynthia and Greg.” Her voice quieted. “Sometimes I wish I had just told her myself.”
“You still can.”
It wasn’t that I was passing the buck. Fine . . . Maybe I was. But Willow loved Lisa. I couldn’t bear the thought of that relationship going up in flames too.
Lisa reached up to the top shelf and pulled down Willow’s debut novel. She opened the cover and pulled out an envelope, then did the same with the next book in the row. “You can always let someone else tell her.”
THE FORD METHOD: WEEK ELEVEN
PAST
This week, we’re keeping things short and sweet.
Life is hard. It’s complicated. Once you get in the thick of your relationship and doing life with your partner, it can be easy to forget the magic of when you first started falling for each other.
Those first stolen glances.
Those first touches.
