“Fine,” he says. “You know what? You’re right. After a while, I didn’t try as hard to see you. Perhaps that was a mistake. But you disliked my wife, you were sour with me whenever you agreed to meet, and I thought I’d do us both a favor and not force it. Frankly, I thought you wanted it that way.”
“It’s not just in the past, Dad. You hardly ever contact me, and when I reach out, half the time you blow me off. It hurts me when you do that.”
“Well, then you should understand that it hurt me when you blewmeoff.”
“Do you mean when I was inmiddle school?”
“I’ve said that I’m sorry, Molly. I don’t know how many more times I can.”
I’m over this. I want him to leave.
“Okay,” I say. “I accept your apology.”
He nods nobly. “Good. I appreciate that. Moving on, let’s try a fresh start. Why don’t you come over for brunch tomorrow? We can take the sailboat out. A new tradition.”
I wince at how badly teenage Molly would have wanted him to think up this idea.
But this Molly—grown-up Molly—isn’t risking herself for a dollop of his attention.
And she fucking hates sailboats.
“It upsets me to see you right now,” I say. “It’s not a good time.”
He purses his lips. “That’s your choice. But remember it next time you want to fling my so-called neglect in my face.”
“Will do. Bye.”
I start to close the door, but he puts his foot in the doorway to stop me.
“Are you serious?” I ask.
“Do not slam this door in my face. I’m your father.”
“But you aren’t!” I cry. “That’s what I’m saying. So can you leave me alone now? Do you really want to ruin another holiday?”
He stares at me like he really, truly, cannot comprehend my anger. And then he removes his foot. “I’ll wait for you to contact me, since you clearly don’t want to talk.”
He turns around and stalks back to his car, abandoning the lilies where they lay.
“Fuckthat guy,” I say as I close the door.
“Yeah,” my mom calls, rushing in from the living room. “Fuck that guy!”
Bruce follows her with the party planner, wearing a concerned expression. “Molly honey,” he says, “I don’t like to wish ill on others. But fuck that guy.”
“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” the party planner says, “but fuck that guy!”
My mom gives me a hug. “Are you okay, sweets?”
“Yeah. But that was exhausting. I’m going to try to take a nap so I can be my sparkling self for your party.”
“Good idea,” she says. “No one likes a grump.”
“I know. That’s why no one likes me.”
She puts a big sloppy kiss on my cheek.
“I like you, Molly Malloly.”
