“Yeah,” I promise her, just as I hear Lucy raise her voice.
“I think we better get in there,” I say, but Ma’s already by my side.
Lucy
My dad is seated on one of the wingback chairs by the window. Objectively speaking, he looks awful. And I know he came off a twelve-hour shift, but still. In fact, it’s past lunchtime now, so he had plenty of time to shower and change. His hair is disheveled, he’s got scrub pants on and a grey hoodie that looks like he’s had since I was born. The last time I saw him this wrecked was the week after my mom left. My dad is awell-pressed is well-dressed kind of guy, so this is a little unexpected.
“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, Lucy. I’m well aware that my opinion is in the minority around here. But the fact remains: you need to think about your actions. In the space of a day, you’ve given up everything you’ve worked half your life for. You need to realize that and think about the consequences.”
“Have I?” I ask him, taking a seat on the chair opposite his. “Because the way I look at it, I was fired by an organization whose values I abhor. How is that a loss?”
“Lucy,” my dad begins, but I can’t bear to listen.
“No, Dad. I’m not arguing about this. I’m not debating my future with you. I’ve made my choices. And I think they’re really good ones. I have a boyfriend who adores me. I’m finishing the semester remotely before enrolling in a prestigious business school. Instead of being hours away from you, I’ll be easily within driving distance. But that’s if you’re willing to let go of your vision for my future.”
“My vision?”
“Yes, Dad. Yours. And honestly, it was mine, too. Until it wasn’t. LifeReach is a toxic place, and I’m relieved to be rid of them. I couldn’t see it at the time, or maybe I didn’t want to, but I’m so much better off now. Dad, let’s face it. My future isn’t that far off from the one we mapped out. I’m just taking a slightly different road.”
“I don’t want you to have regrets, Lucy,” my dad tells me, looking older and more tired than I’ve ever seen him.
“But, Dad, of course I’ll have regrets. That's part of life. But I don’t regret changing schools. And I don’t regret loving Caleb. I never will.”
Propping his glasses on top of his head, my dad pinches his brow. And I’m done.
“Is that how this is going to go? You’re going to refuse to acknowledge Caleb? Or worse, consider him a regret? You realize that will destroy your relationship with your wife, right?”
“It’s not Caleb I have an issue with, per se. He’s a nice young man. But—”
“But we love each other,” I say, raising my voice in frustration. “That’s not changing anytime soon. Did you know he was my first kiss? Because he was. We were fourteen. We’d met the summer before. And we spent a few more summers together. It was never anything serious. It was just a summer thing. That’s what we told ourselves. But we were lying. I’ve been in love with Caleb Whitman for years. Long before you met and married his mother.”
“She’s right, you know,” Caleb says, entering the room with his mom at his side. “We fell in love before you two did. So, pretty much, we call dibs.”
“Dibs?” My father asks.
“Yep.”
My dad clears his throat. “Caleb, it’s not you I have an issue with. Truly. You’re your mother’s son, and God knows, I adore her.” He looks up at Kristy, and she closes her eyes. “But…there’s so much to consider.”
“Like what?” I ask. “The fact that some biddies will gossip? That doesn’t bother us. It’s baseless, anyway.”
“Fine, then. What about the fact that you’re both twenty-one. You’re too young to—”
Finally, Kristy speaks. “I was 21 when I met Jesse. He was older, but I was in my last year of college. I loved him. Immediately, irrevocably, and unconditionally. My age had nothing to do with it.” She takes a breath. “And I love you, Brian. The night we met, I fell hard and fast. I couldn’t believe I was lucky enough to find love twice. I love you,” she repeats, “but I think you’re being stubborn and obstinate. I think you’re in danger of losing the best thing that’s ever happened to you—and that’s your daughter. If our children walk out of this house right now, I wouldn’t blame them. And I probably won’t speak to you for a few more days. But I will love you. Because that’s what love does—it stays. Even when things are hard, it stays.”
Caleb leans in and gives his mom a hug, and I walk over to join them. The visual is clear. Three of us in this room understand how fragile life is, and we choose love while we have it.
My dad is on the other end of the room, weighing the pros and cons, calculating all of it. I get that kind of caution. I am my father’s daughter, after all. But love doesn’t come with guarantees. And it’s worth the risk.
Standing, my dad paces back and forth in front of the window. “You love each other?” he asks.
“Of course we do,” I say, just as Caleb answers, “I love your daughter with all my heart.”
“Then I won’t stand in your way. But you will finish school, Lucy. I have an email into a friend who teaches at Bainbridge. I think—”
“I think I can handle it from here, Dad,” I say, knowing my words have layered meanings and that they can’t be easy for a father to hear.
“I suppose you can,” he acknowledges, walking toward me.
