My face appears first, and I drop my gaze, waiting for the circle to stopspinning and his face to pop up in its stead.
And when it does, he smiles.
Not one of the sneers he used to do when we were younger and he was always at my throat. Anactualsmile.
It would be a lie to say that he hasn’t changed. It’s been about seven years, and it shows a little. In the way his eyes crease at the corner with the—disturbingly—warm smile reaching his eyes, the expressions wrinkles on his forehead, the few white hairs in his beard and the side of his perfectly styled hair.
“It’s so good to see you, Prudence,” he says, and I’m surprised that he actually sounds like he means it.
“Is it?” I ask, my voice croaking a little.
His smiles wavers then, and my heart clenches in my chest. “Yeah, it is. I’m—How are you? So you’re in California, now?”
I force a smile, relieved that he can’t see my free hand shaking on my lap. “Yeah. We are.”
He nods, maybe waiting for me to elaborate, but I don’t. I’m just staring at his face, so familiar and foreign at the same time.
“Julie and I are still in Aspen,” he says and I just nod. “It’s practical. So mom and Dad can spend time with the kids and stuff. Mom is the stereotypical grandmother,” he chuckles. “It’s almost scary. She makes so much Jam and bakes so many cakes, you could put her in a commercial or something.”
I force a smile, my throat tightening. I don’t recognize my mother in the woman he is describing. My mother is cold, distant, and judgemental. Not the baking grandmother, playing and running around surrounded by happy grandchildren.
“The kids asked about you the other day,” he says, his eyes darting to the side for a short second before going back to face the camera. “They found a picture of you and Jack in the attic.”
He pauses then, and I still don’t talk.
“And they asked me why they never saw other pictures of the two of you before. Why the only picture of you was stashed in a forgotten drawer in a forgotten chest, in the attic. And I had no answers.”
My throat bobs, struggling to swallow through the knot settled there, the rising need to cry.
“They didn’t show the picture to mom and dad. Just stole it and brought it home to ask me. And I hadno answers. Because Jack stopped showing up during his fourth year of college. But you kept coming back for a little while. And it didn’t hit me at the time because we’ve never been close, but mom and dad never acknowledged Jack’s absence. All of his pictures disappeared from the family house. And you were always so angry, so sad, when you were here.”
He pauses, and I pray that the single tear sliding down my cheek is not showing on his screen.
“And that single photo was hidden in the attic. The kids don’t remember you, because you stopped coming home when they were too little to have real memories, but they were curious about you and—”
“Does this conversation have a point?” I ask flatly, the quiver in my voice barely audible.
I see his eyes close and he seems to take a breath. I doubt he wanted to call me about a probably old picture that they forgot to throw away.
“Dad’s in the hospital.”
I say nothing. We stare at each other through the barrier of our respective screens. I let a minute pass, waiting for him to explain further. He doesn’t.
“I fail to understand why that would concern me.”
He sighs at my cold tone. “He’s still your father.”
“Sure,” I chuckle dryly. “I’ll send flowers.”
“He had a stroke, Prudence. He’s been in and out of consciousness for two days. It’s a big deal and if you just—”
“Well, boo—fucking—hoo, Tham. What am I supposed to do, cry for the bastard? I’m sorry, but I can’t. I won’t pretend anymore. I’m not happy that happened, but I won’t shed a single tear for that poor excuse of a human being.”
I’m not sure if the screen is frozen or if I actually managed to shock him so much that he’d lost the ability to speak. Unfortunately, that small blessing doesn’t last.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“Are you serious?” I scoff in disbelief. “I struggle to believe that you don’t know what happened. You haven’t seen Jack for ten fucking years! And none of you thought to ask daddy dearest why Jack was suddenly out of the family picture? Why me, the only one who actually cared about him, decidedthat I wasdonewith them too?”
