“Thrift store shit,” I replied, even though that wasn’t true.
She tasked softly. “Very nice, Avery.”
I rolled my eyes as I pushed open the door, half tempted to race back through the house and start rolling around on all the white furniture. Dad was sitting on one of the chaise lounges, reading a newspaper. Before I could open my mouth, Mom did.
“Look who decided to pay us a visit.”
Dad lowered the newspaper as he looked up. Surprised flickered across his face. “Avery.”
“Hey, Dad.”
Sitting up, he folded the newspaper and placed it aside. “We weren’t expecting you.”
No ‘how have you’ve been’ or ‘happy to see you.’ I sat in one of the wicker chairs. “I know. I’m not going to be here for long.”
“She wants to talk to us.” Mom remained standing. “I cannot fathom what it could be about, but there is a rental in the driveway and there’s a boy in the car.”
I ignored that comment. “This has nothing to do with the rental or who is in the car.”
“I’d surely hope you didn’t come all this way to talk about that,” she replied.
I took a long, deep breath. “I spoke to David.” My father stiffened, and Mom was surprisingly quiet. Good signs. “He told me about Molly Simmons and Blaine Fitzgerald and what happened last summer—what will happen this summer.”
“Avery…”
“No,” I said, cutting Mom off before she could say anything else that would surely piss me off. “I haven’t broken the agreement. I’ve kept my mouth shut all these years. I’ve done exactly what you two told me I should do.”
Mom drew herself up. “David had no right to call you—”
“Why not?” I demanded. “Is it against the law to let me know that Blaine raped another girl, just like he had raped me?”
Dad sucked in a shrill breath, but Mom, she got whiter if that was possible. “There is no reason to put that out there so crudely,” she said, crossing her arms. “We know what you said—”
“What I told you that night at the hospital is the same thing I told the police. Blaine had raped me. It was you two that decided I should drop the charges, which made everyone think that I had lied.”
“Avery,” my father began.
I didn’t let him get any further. “The reason why I even came here is because I need to let go of what happened to me and the only way I can do that is by telling you two what I should’ve said then.” I took a breath, one I didn’t need. “You two were wrong. You were so unbelievably wrong in what you decided.”
Mom stepped forward. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I stood, my hands balling into fists. “You should’ve told his parents to go fuck themselves. You should’ve told them to get the hell out of your house. You should’ve gone to the police and told then what his parents were trying to do, which was to bribe your daughterinto silence. And for what? So you wouldn’t have to go to court? So that no one would ask questions? And you all could still go to the cluband things wouldn’t be awkward? Meanwhile, I was labeled a lying whore by everyone? And Blaine was free to do it again to another person? How culpable are we? You should’ve stood beside me and believed me! You should’ve gotten me help. I’m your daughter. You should’ve been thinking about me.”
Dad looked away, and I could understand why. Maybe he’d always suspected the truth. I would be ashamed, too.
“Things haven’t turned out that bad for your, Avery.” Mom let out a noisy breath. “After all, look at what you’ve been able to do with that money. Go to college. Furnish your own apartment.” Her lip curled. “You make it sound like we did nothing for you.”
“Nancy,” my father said, lifting his head.
“What?” She tipped her chin up. “Never once did she think this was hard on us.”
I stared at my mom, but I wasn’t surprised. Part of me wished I were and I wasn’t that hurt by her words. “You know, that’s the problem, Mom. You’ve only ever been concerned about how everything is so difficult for you.” I shook my head as I glanced at my Dad. “I’m doing better. In case you guys actually care. I’m doing good at school. I have friends and I’ve met a wonderful man who knows what happened to me. So those are the things that haven’t turned out bad. I hope one day I can say the same thing about us.”
My father pressed his lips to the back of his fingers, still staring out into the garden. I took one more look at them and turned to my mom. She met my stare with a steady one, but fine lines started to show at the corners of her lips. No matter how unaffected she looked, I knew I had nettled her.
“I didn’t come here to make you two feel bad,” I said, swallowing. “That isn’t what this is about. I needed to say something, finally. And I need you guys to know that I forgive you, but don’t ever expect that you can tell me what to do with my life ever again.”
She held my gaze a moment longer and then looked away, her jaw line tight. I gave them both a few seconds to say something, but silence crept between us. So be it.
I walked toward the door, my back straight and my head high. It wasn’t forced. It was real. Another weight lifted off my chest, leaving only one thing left to do. But that was tomorrow and today—today was a good day.
Smiling slightly, I walked through the formal sitting room. On my way out, I grabbed a throw pillow that probably cost a month of rent and tossed it onto the floor. Childish? Yes. Did it make me feel good? Oh yeah.
As I stepped out onto the porch, I saw that Cam was outside of the car, his baseball cap pulled low as he inspected the water fountain. My smile widened as I saw him run his hand through the water.
He turned and when he spotted me, he jogged around the car and met me halfway. “How’d it go?”
“Ah…” I stretched up, tilting my head to the side so that I could move in under his cap. I kissed him. “It went as expected.”
His hands immediately landed on my hips, a sure sign that the quick kiss had affected him, even standing in front of my parents’ house. “Want to tell me about it?”
“Over dinner?” I stepped back, and he caught my hand. “I’m going to take you to Chuy’s—”
“Avery?”
Cam stiffened, his grip on my hand tightening as I turned toward the sound of my dad’s voice. He was halfway across the porch, coming straight for us.
“If he says something ignorant, I cannot promise I will not lay him out right here, right now,” Cam warned in a low voice.
I squeezed his hand. “Hopefully that won’t become an issue.”
“Just saying,” he muttered.
We waited for my dad to reach us. He took in Cam and where our hands were joined.
“This is Cameron Hamilton,” I introduced, because it seemed rude not to. “Cam, this is my father.”
Cam extended his free hand, but his jaw was tight and his eyes were an icy blue. “Hi.”
My father shook his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Cam said nothing.
“What’s up, Dad?” I asked.
His eyes met mine for a second and then flickered away. Up close like this, in the harsh sunlight of the Texas sun, I saw how much my father had aged. In that moment, I realized that what had happened had taken its toll on him. He, unlike my mom, hadn’t covered it through numerous procedures and makeup.
My dad took a deep breath and then said, “You know what I’ve missed most of all? I miss watching you dance.”
Chapter 32
Over dinner, I filled Cam in on the conversation I had with my parents. I thought he might launch his steak knife into a wall when I told him about my mom’s attitude.
“Really,” I said. “I’m not surprised. She’s always been… cold and it just got worse over the years.”
Cam’s jaw flexed. “You’re nicer than me.”
I shrugged. He wouldn’t think that if he was party to my internal dialogue. “I’m glad I talked to them. And Dad? The whole dance thing was his way of showing some level of regret. At least he got what I was saying, you know?”