Jeez, I must have sat there ten minutes staring at her trying to figure out that one, until I picked out enough words to get lady friend and long term thing. At least I think that’s what she said, and I’m definitely going to leave it at that—coming face to face with the reality that Jack does go out to get laid. It’s not like I didn’t think so, but it’s unsettling to have it pushed in your face over a bowl of Cheerios. It hurts that Jack has had a long term thing and never mentioned it me.
Why would Jack not tell me this? What is it about me that the people in my life can’t always be direct with me, not even my own father? And why am I never direct with them?
The sound of a door closing makes me turn and I spot Jack crossing the lawn toward me. Jack is smiling, his blue eyes twinkling, and he looks exactly the same as he always does with me, but for some reason my stomach knots.
Jack sinks down beside me on the step and sets a Diet Coke next to me. Sodas on the cliffs. Not good, Chrissie, not good. He wants to talk to me.
I force a smile to my face.
“What you doing out here, sitting all alone, baby girl?”
“Just thinking.”
Jack smiles, but I suddenly feel extremely awkward. It’s obvious we both know he wasn’t here last night. Is it weirder to ask or weirder not to?
I say, “I take off tomorrow.”
Jack pops open his can, frowning. “You do? I thought you were staying until the semester starts. That’s another week.”
“Nope. Heading out of here.”
“Going to Seattle?”
“Nope.”
Jack’s brow crinkles quizzically. “Was kind of a quiet Christmas this year, wasn’t it?” he asks.
“It was fine for me.”
Jack stares at the ocean. “Feels strange not having Neil here.”
I look at him trying to figure out where he’s going with this since I really don’t want to have a heart to heart with my dad about Neil.
“Neil’s always on the road. Nonstop. He’s practically never here during the holidays.”
Jack laughs. “He’s always here. If he’s not somewhere in this house with you, you’re on the phone with him. Just sort of noticed that the phone didn’t ring very much the last couple of weeks. What’s going on?”
I shrug and I don’t say anything.
“I kind of like Neil.” Jacks says after a moment of my silence. “He doesn’t seem like a dump and run kind of guy. He seems pretty hung up over you. You’ve been kind off since you got here. Preoccupied and quiet. Is it because you broke up with Neil?”
Oh fuck. Direct hit. Vulnerable spot in under five minutes. Maybe I should ask Jack how his fuck went? That would change this up a bit from our normal, completely not normal, father-daughter chats.
I lift my gaze to find Jack studying me and Neil was right. There are times when Jack stares at you it is unnerving and my cheeks have the bad manners to color profusely.
“We’re just taking a break. It’s no big deal, Daddy.”
Jack shakes his head in that I’m not buying it way he has when he’s trying to figure out something that’s worrying him about me.
“Are you pregnant?”
He says it so quietly I almost miss it and then everything shoots through my body at once. I can’t feel my arms, I can’t feel my legs, and I can’t believe Jack just asked me that.
“How could you ask me that, Daddy? Is that what you think?”
His blues meet mine directly. “Well. You’re upset, he’s gone. What should I think?”
“Well, you shouldn’t think that,” I exclaim, full irritation in my voice. “I broke up with him. Simple. End of story. Jesus Christ, I’m not pregnant. We’re both just trying to figure out shit. We both got our own shit to work through. School ends soon. I don’t have a fucking clue what I do then…”
I clamp my mouth shut. Why is he staring at me that way? Oh crap. Any hope this conversation would end in nothing just flew out the window.
Jack nods. “Just wanted to make sure you were OK.”
“There’s nothing wrong,” I say firmly. “I’m just quiet. I’ve got a lot on my mind. God, can’t you just cut me some slack and not overreact to every little thing?”
Jack turns until he’s facing me squarely. “I don’t feel like I’ve reacted to anything. You’re my daughter. I have a right to worry. I have a right to ask when I feel something is wrong.”
I spring to my feet. “There’s nothing wrong.”
Jack stares up to me. “Why don’t you just sit back down? I know something is going on with you, Chrissie. We can talk it through together.”
“Nothing is going on. I dumped my boyfriend. He’s on the road all the time. I graduate in the spring. It was time. It was the right thing.”
“Who are you trying to convince, Chrissie? Me or yourself?”
Direct hit. Again. No matter how you try to fix your life, I’m learning you can still have doubts and regrets and I am at times regretting breaking it off with Neil.
I look down at Jack. “No one. I’m not trying to convince anyone of anything. I’m just pissed off because Neil is not a dump and run guy. And it really pisses me off that you thought he could treat me that way.”
“I didn’t believe it. I worried it. There’s a difference.”
“Not to me.”
~~~
I go into my bedroom and pack my bag, determined to get the hell out of here quickly.
Last night was tense and awful. Breakfast this morning was even worse, and I just want to get out of here, before one more thing comes my way to make me feel badly about the decisions I’m making in my life.
I lug my duffel to the front door, but before I can open it, Jack’s there quickly. He takes the bag from my hand.
“I wish you were staying longer,” he says.
“I’ll call you when I get back to Berkeley.”
“When will that be?”
“Three days.”
Jack nods, his lips scrunched together, his chin moving out just a touch in that way he has when he wants to ask more and won’t do it. I can tell by his expression that it’s in his thoughts that I still haven’t told him where I’m going. And it’s suddenly not unnoticed by me that I’m lying to my father, again.
I follow my dad into the driveway and wait by the open car door as he tosses my duffel into the back.
He kisses me on the forehead. “Drive carefully, Chrissie.”
I smile. “I will. I’ll call you Wednesday.”
I climb into the car, Jack closes my door, and I put my key in the ignition. I drive away and it hurts, really hurts, to see my dad still in the driveway watching me.
I’m not a little girl anymore. I shouldn’t feel badly about not telling Jack about Alan and me. I have a right to my own life and privacy. Jack certainly keeps a thing or two private from me. But I do feel badly, like I did, as a little girl. All the things I hid from my father, and all the worry and pain I gave him because of it.
As I drive beneath the high black metal Hope Ranch arch of our neighborhood, I give it the finger. There’s no hope for me here. I will always be the same; blurred, messy, and never certain of anything.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
When I get to the Malibu house, I pull into the driveway and am surprised to see a car there. I’m a day early. Why is Alan already here?
I hurry up the walk, not bothering to grab my bag, and use my key to let myself in. I find Alan in the living room sitting in a chair at the far side of the room before the wall of glass, and it looks like he’s been doing nothing for a while but sitting in that chair staring off into space. He doesn’t even have a drink in his hand.