A Mother's Lie - Sarah Zettel Page 0,2

braced herself and picked up the receiver. “Good morning, Doug.”

“Hi, Beth, it’s…Oh, ha-ha,” laughed Dana’s father stiffly. “How did you know?”

“It’s my superpower.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why Gutierrez pays you the big bucks, right?” Officially, Beth’s title at Lumination Ventures was vice president, but unofficially, she was the chief bullshit navigator. “Anyway.” Doug sighed. “I’m glad I caught you. I was afraid you might have left already.”

You hoped I had left already, and that’s why you called the landline. “What’s going on?”

“Well, unfortunately—and this is not my fault. I really tried to get this moved, I swear, but…”

Beth stopped listening. She’d heard what she needed to. This wasn’t exactly the first time Doug had called to wriggle out of a promise he’d made Dana.

“…I know this is the last second, and I should have called earlier. I know, I know…”

Exactly when did you degenerate into such a cliché, Doug?

“…I was really looking forward to this weekend…”

You were the one who always talked about living an authentic life. That really should have tipped me off right there.

“…and I just kept hoping things would work out…”

And the big ask is coming in three…two…one…

“…So, you’ll tell her I’m really sorry?”

“She’s right here, Doug. You can tell her yourself.”

“Beth, I…”

“Dana, it’s your father.” Beth passed the phone to Dana.

“Yeah, I noticed,” Dana said to her. Then, into the receiver she said, “What’s going on, Dad?”

Dana listened and scooped up a piece of cold egg with the last of her bagel. Beth leaned back against the kitchen island and watched her daughter’s face slowly closing down while Doug chattered and apologized and promised, all from a safe distance.

At least my father would lie to my face. The thought dropped into place without warning. Beth looked away, until she was sure she had her shock hidden.

“Yeah, Dad,” said Dana. “It’s fine. I’m sorry too. No, it’s okay. I got invited to an end-of-year party at Kimi’s…Yeah, so, you’re right—it all worked out. Yeah. Say hi to Susan for me. Here’s Mom.”

Dana handed Beth the receiver and immediately dug into the last of her omelet.

“I really am sorry, Beth,” said Doug. “Will you make sure Dana knows that? Please?”

Something about the particular pleading note in his voice pricked at Beth’s awareness. “Are you all right, Doug? You sound”—worse than usual—“worried.”

“What? Yeah. Fine, but, um, I don’t want to keep you.”

“No, of course not. Have a good day.”

Beth hung up and went back to her cooling breakfast.

“Sorry, Dangerface.” The nickname had come after a childhood accident. Dana tripped on the escalator and had to get five stitches in her forehead. She absolutely refused to wear a bandage, and instead ran around the house growling and shouting, “I got my danger face on!”

“It was gonna happen.” Dana shrugged. “I don’t know why he even bothers.”

So he can tell himself he tried. But Dana already knew that.

Beth had promised herself from the start she would not get between Dana and her father, especially once they moved out to Chicago. She’d always known Doug was a hot mess and not good for much beyond romantic weekends and grandiose pronouncements. That was why she didn’t marry him, even when she came up pregnant.

Especially when I came up pregnant.

Even so, she’d never expected Doug to treat his daughter first like a secret and then like an embarrassment.

“You can always say no when he starts making plans, Dana.”

“Yeah. I guess.” She smashed a chunk of tomato flat with her fork. “Maybe he’d like that better.”

“It’s just…you don’t need to make things easier on him just because he’s your father. That’s not your job.”

“I thought that was what families did.”

“Families do all kinds of things.”

“Yeah, well, my experience is kind of limited there.”

The rebuke stung, but it was an old pain, and Beth told herself she barely noticed anymore.

Dana’s phone buzzed, and she flipped it over. “Chelsea’s downstairs.”

Which meant all discussion was officially closed. The pair of them began the last stage of their morning routine—getting plates in the dishwasher, finding Dana’s backpack and the final history paper that she’d almost forgotten, Beth’s briefcase, and the extra folder out of her study that she might just need for this morning’s demo session.

Beth tried not to feel relieved that there was no more time to talk. Family was a perfect storm for them. Beth had secrets, Doug had issues, and Dana had anger.

And Beth didn’t know what to do about any of it. She never had.

“Phone?”

Dana opened one side of her school uniform vest to show what