he made a mistake. That he’d gone off and gotten his life together, started a business, and wanted us to be a family. I told him to stuff it where the sun don’t shine and slammed the door on his handsome face. Never saw him again after that, but I always wonder if I should have invited him in. Let him make amends. See our beautiful daughter. See if we could have given it another go.”
I was shocked. Gobsmacked. Completely shook by this revelation. I’d always thought my father didn’t care about me, but he’d tried to come back.
“But . . . what . . . why are you just telling me this now?” I stuttered.
Mom found her pack of cigarettes and held them up triumphantly. “So you don’t make the same mistakes I made. You gotta make your own mistakes. Believe me when I say, nothing’s worse than wondering what if, Isabel Watson.”
“Wait. Where is he now? Can I contact him?”
Mom hissed through her teeth. “Oh, sorry, that’s the actual end of the story. Found out a year later he was in prison, so I guess I actually dodged a bullet. But that ending didn’t fit with my advice about giving Boston another chance.” She fumbled around the side of the chair and further reclined while she flailed around. “Now help me out of this ridiculous chair!”
I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Mom to drop a bombshell like that in the midst of my suffering. I helped her up so she could go outside and smoke. Ashley grabbed my hands and kept me from falling back down on the couch to mope.
“Nope! No more of this. Let’s make some breakfast and then you’re going to shower. I love you, but the hotdog fumes are making me sick. And then when you’re feeling more put together, we’re going to come up with a plan. Maybe twenty-six of them, if we have to have that many contingencies.”
I didn't follow. “Twenty-six?”
“Plan A, plan B, etcetera until we get to Z. Twenty-six letters in the alphabet. Everyone knows you give plans a letter of the alphabet.”
I wrapped my arms around her and squeezed. “I love you, but your brain is a weird place.” I let her go and started walking to my room. “Will you make sure Mom doesn’t go home in an Uber? Or a stranger’s car? I’ll take her home once I’m dressed.”
Heading to my room, I felt lighter than I had when I woke up, but I had a feeling all the plans in the world weren’t going to help. My heart just wasn’t ready to forgive Boston for making me look and feel like a fool. Besides, other than a single apology text last night, he didn’t even seem like he wanted to make things right.
The ball was most definitely in his court.
And I was ready to take my racquet and go home.
17
Boston
* * *
I spent the better part of the week after El and I parted ways completely miserable. The worst part was that it wasn’t like ripping off a Band-Aid. She didn’t walk away from me and then leave me to nurse my wounds alone. She walked right back into my life every single day when I went over to the Cunning Ham after a full day at West Wines to help Mom.
It wasn’t her fault. El worked there. And I was glad—she was a phenomenal wine hostess and made more sales from behind the counter than I ever could have. I couldn’t wait to see what she’d do when we turned her loose on the unsuspected restaurants around here. But I wasn’t going to be at her side to celebrate with her.
And that hurt.
What hurt more was the way she utterly ignored me every evening when I arrived, literally turning away as if I didn’t even exist. She laughed and chatted with everyone who came through the door as if her life was just peachy, as if we hadn’t shared anything, as if none of it mattered to her.
Meanwhile, I moped.
“Boston!” Mom hissed at me when I stepped into the back to pull another case for El up front. “Don’t you think this has gone on long enough?”
I sighed. I knew this was coming. I was just surprised Mom had been able to hold her tongue this long. I sagged against a shelf and faced her. “Okay. Let’s hear it.”
She shook her head as if she wasn’t sure what I was referring to.
“The motherly disappointment.