“Well, it’s certainly loud.”
“Yeah… it is.” A sliding door opens and closes before boisterous voices fill the air. “I’d better get going, dad, I still have some work to finish up.” Since its Friday night, I don’t plan on doing anything school related. But it’s a good excuse to pull the plug on this conversation. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Just think about coming home for a visit, okay? Leah’s excited to hear all about your apartment and trip to Paris. She picked up a housewarming gift for you and Lexie.”
I roll my eyes at that. “Okay. I’ll let you know.” But I’m thinking never would be a good time. Even though I know I’ll have to plan a trip home at some point, my strategy is to put it off for as long as possible. Like Thanksgiving.
We both say I love you before disconnecting. A moment later, Lexie sticks her head out the sliding door. “Whatcha up to, Ivy-Girl?”
Talking with my dad always puts me in a maudlin mood. It never fails to remind me that we’re no longer the tight knit family we once were. And that’s a bitter pill to swallow on the best of days. Having to watch Leah snuggle up to my dad is still a painful reminder that he moved on in the blink of an eye.
Because Nolan and Nora were born almost a full year after my mother’s death, I know they must have gotten together almost immediately after my mom passed away. And once he sat me down and dropped the bomb that he’d knocked up his co-worker, she moved right on in.
So I never really gave Leah much of a chance.
I mean seriously… how could I?
Every time I looked at her or those kids, all I could think about was how she slid unwantedly into our grieving family before my mom’s dead body was even cold.
Setting my phone down on the small glass café style table, I shrug as if it’s no big deal. “Just talking to my dad.”
Lexie’s eyes widen. She knows all too well the unresolved issues my dad and I are still struggling with. Lexie was there when my mom got sick in eighth grade. And she was there to comfort me when my mom died the summer before my sophomore year. She was also there four months later when my dad suddenly announced out of nowhere that he had impregnated Leah and was now getting remarried.
After that, I spent as much time as I could camping out at Lexie’s house. I would have just moved in with her family if I could have. But my dad wouldn’t allow it. So I was stuck living with my dad, his baby mama, and their squalling twins that were born right before the start of my junior year of high school.
My dad’s modus operandi is to sweep all the ugliness from the past neatly under the rug and pretend everything is hunky-dory. Both he and Leah walk around with their heads up their asses and I’m the fly in the ointment that refuses to go along with it. So it’s just easier for all involved to have these fake conversations and keep my distance until I’m finally able to support myself.
Her pretty face fills with compassion. “Everything good with him?”
“Always sunny and perfect in John Kaster’s la-la land.” I give her a mocking smile that feels brittle around the edges. “Come on, you know that.”
One side of her mouth hitches in sympathy as she folds her arms across her ample chest. Not that I’m deliberately trying to focus on Lexie’s boobs, but she really does have an enviable rack on her. She’s at least a D cup. Every once in a while I try imagining what that must feel like. Since I’m only a B cup, it takes a great deal of pondering. Hell, sometimes I don’t wear a bra… and no one even notices. “Is he coming here for a visit? It’s been about sixteen months since you’ve seen him.”
Glancing away, I murmur, “I told him I’d check my schedule and get back to him with a date that works.”
Because she knows me so well, she snorts. “Do you actually have any intention whatsoever of getting back to him?”
“Nope.” I pop the P at the end.
Rather sadly, she shakes her head. “I didn’t think so.” Lexie moves from the doorway to the small table that is almost too big for our teeny tiny balcony before pulling out a chair and throwing herself down. Gently she says, “Maybe it’s time for you to let it go, Ivy. I mean, you’ve already lost one parent, do you really want to lose him, too?”
Her words catch me so off guard that it feels like I’ve been sucker punched in the gut. My eyes instantly well with unspent emotion. When I’m finally able to wrap my lips around the words, they sound all rough and gravelly. “Are you really saying that to me?” She, out of everybody, knows what I’ve been through. She knows how my dad moved right on with his life and expected that I would be able to do the same.