She growls, sounding more like me than I’d like to admit. “I’m the one who found him. After your visit, I looked for him.”
“Why? Why would you do that?” I turn onto Gabe’s street.
“Because he’s the only parent we have left in this world!” she yells over the phone.
“I’m going to hang up now.” I park by the curb in my usual spot in front of Gabe’s house.
“Jerk.”
I grunt. “I just pulled up.”
“Ah, okay.”
The connection ends as I climb out of the car. Kinsley walks out of the house with my father trailing out behind her.
She stops halfway down the path, glancing back and forth between us.
Kinsley fists her hands on her hips. “Seriously? Do I have to be the adult here?”
Our father descends the steps and joins her, leaving me with the choice.
Do I meet him there or walk away?
I study him, comparing his memory with the man I see now. What he wrote in his letter bounces in my head about his mistakes, regrets, and how looking back, he would have made different choices.
And then I remember the last words Sophie said to me about how you can’t move forward in life if you’re still looking back. Maybe it’s time to put the regrets to rest and start living in the now and then go from there.
I inhale a deep breath, shove my hands into my pants pockets, and take one step, then another.
Toward my sister, my father…and my future.
Dinner was grueling. I think I felt worse for Gabe and Olivia than I did for myself, but they did their best to help us get a conversation going. The problem is my anger. I can’t seem to communicate without blowing up, so I stopped talking. And now it’s time to leave.
Kinsley joins me by the door, looking miffed herself. “I told Dad we’d stay at our house tonight, so you can either drive us or we’ll take an Uber.”
She’s already calling him ‘Dad.’ I know she wants this, but I’m struggling. I remember what he did to our family, and I’m finding it hard to believe he could have changed, despite his in-depth explanation of how he wound up in prison after nearly overdosing and describing it as the best thing that could have happened to him.
He got sober—he got help. Specifically with a diagnosis of a bipolar disorder. Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place for him. He began to heal and make amends as much as possible from prison. He even tried to reach out to our mother, but she refused his call.
I grunt. I’m not thrilled about having him in our house again, but I’m willing to try for Kinsley. “I’ll drive.”
By the time we pull up to our house, it’s late. All I want is to fall into bed and pass into oblivion for a while, so I don’t have to think about anything, although I’m sure Sophie will invade my dreams tonight.
As we head up the path, my father stops and smells one of the remaining roses on Mom’s bushes, while Kinsley unlocks the door and goes inside. Light from the lamp in the window floods the porch and leaks over onto Mom’s roses. I clench my fists at my sides, resisting the urge to push him away. What right does he have to enjoy something she loved?
He lifts his head and scans the rest of the bushes. “Your mother always loved roses.”
With a grunt, I climb up the steps. The sooner I get inside, the better because I don’t think I have any energy left to control my chaotic emotions. Or my temper. Everything in me is numb except the anger.
“Luke.”
At the sound of his voice, I stop at the front door and hang my head. “Yeah?”
“Don’t make the same mistake I did.”
I turn around and saunter over to the railing. “What are you talking about?”
“Kinsley told me about Sophie.”
