Keep Me If You Can (If You Can #3)

29. Poof, Everything Is Fixed

Chapter twenty-nine

Poof, Everything Is Fixed

C uriosity finally got the best of me later that night.

I only answered because I was at least sixty-three percent sure it wasn’t my dad. It was after eight and he rarely had his phone on him after seven; anything urgent was routed through Pierre. And sure, he could’ve been trying to trick me into answering by doing things I didn’t expect, like texting me.

But I was also convinced he was far too proud to hide his name when he called.

“If you’re calling at a weird time and using Kimberlee’s phone under the assumption that I’d pick up, you’re right, but I’m going to hang up if this isn’t her,” I said when I answered.

“So you are ignoring Max, then?” Kimberlee asked, laughing softly.

“Of course I am,” I said. “Why would I want to talk to him?”

“I wanted to be sure. He said he has been trying to reach you but that you wouldn’t respond. I didn’t know if I should believe him or not.”

There was a lot more to her words than what she said. I picked at my thumbnail, not sure what to feel. “So you’re taking him back, then?”

“There are conditions,” she said, which obviously meant yes. “One of the biggest is that he needs to apologize to you.”

I laughed so hard I dropped my phone.

“Damn, Kimberlee,” I said when I finally managed to control myself and picked it back up. “I never pegged you to be a comedian.”

“I like to tell a joke as much as anyone,” she said. “Though I’d love to know what I said that was so funny.”

“My dad doesn’t apologize.”

“He apologized to me.”

“And you believed him?”

“I did. I do.” She sighed. “He is destroyed right now, Nellie.”

Good, I wanted to say. Good, and good riddance, and good fucking bye.

Instead, I sank onto my couch and closed my eyes. “You heard what he said to me.”

“I did. It was unacceptable. And he knows if I ever hear anything like that again, I will be out of his life faster than he can blink,” she said.

“And you think he’s telling the truth. That he’s not faking all of this remorse because you’re pregnant and he doesn’t want you to take his kid away?”

“I truly do not think Max is faking anything right now.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“People cannot fake tears like the ones I saw from him.”

I snorted. “My dad would never let anyone see him cry. If he’s even capable of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d had his tear ducts removed during one of those Botox appointments he pretends he doesn’t get.”

“I know what I saw, Nellie. You do not have to believe him, or accept his apology, or do anything you do not want to,” she said, then paused for a moment. “I do not know how much you know about Max’s past—”

“More than I did before,” I said. “My mom told me some of it.”

“It is very hard for someone to realize the things they thought were normal are anything but,” she said. “That doesn’t excuse any of what he did. Ever. But he is trying to change. He truly is.”

I wanted to believe her. But even after everything, I didn’t know if I could trust her. Especially over something as fantastical as claiming my dad had cried .

My dad was the kind of man whose smile never reached his eyes. If a smile couldn’t reach them, how could anything else?

“What are you going to do if I don’t let him apologize to me?” I asked. “If that’s one of your conditions?”

“I would never make you speak with him. I only needed to know he tried.”

I swallowed hard. “Well, he did. If he wants to go ahead and stop trying, that would be great. I’m not gonna answer.”

Because he didn’t deserve to apologize.

He didn’t deserve my forgiveness.

He didn’t deserve to have me in his life.

I was so tired of trying to be the daughter he wanted. I wasn’t very good at it, but he’d also never wanted a daughter in the first place. Neither of my parents had expected me.

But at least I’d never felt like my mom didn’t want me.

There was no reason for me to talk to my dad. Harsh as it was, he’d given me what I needed from him. My tuition was paid for. I thought he’d paid for my rent on a yearly basis, but even if he didn’t, I still had the money my mom had saved for me for university. She’d transferred it to my account in my first year, but I hadn’t touched a dime of it; my dad had covered everything.

So I had a cushion. And I had friends in Ottawa who would help me out if I needed it. And even though Jack was living with my mom, my room was still there if I really had no other option.

I’d asked my dad for money. Nothing more.

He’d asked me to attend social events for him. Nothing more.

Everything else he’d given me and that I’d given him was extra. The things that we did because we were connected by blood and a piece of paper someone had put his name on twenty-two years earlier saying he’d contributed to my existence.

I had no reason to forgive him.

No reason except that I wanted my dad to accept me.

I’d asked for his money, but I’d wanted his support. I’d wanted his pride. I’d wanted to feel wanted . But I didn’t know if he was capable of wanting me as the daughter I was, rather than the one he tried to curate.

I doubted he knew if he was.

I didn’t say any of that to Kimberlee. She didn’t make me justify anything. She just accepted my “no” and told me about her latest prenatal appointment, then wished me a good night and hung up.

So I guess I was justifying it all to myself.

For a long time, I sat in silence, staring blankly at the TV in front of me, thinking in circles until I was dizzy. Then, hands shaking, I unlocked my phone.

I’d deleted all the voicemails, but the messages were there. I hesitated before tapping on his name, not sure if I wanted to know what they’d say. My mind had already filled in a number of options, each both more and less likely than the last: Eleanor, answer my calls or I’ll have your landlord evict you. Dear God, grow up and show some class. Call me by the end of the day or I will ensure you cannot graduate this year. Enough is enough, Eleanor. There is a charity event you must attend otherwise I will take you to court. Oh, you do not believe a father can sue his daughter? Perhaps you should have gone to law school after all so you could figure it out. As it stands, I’m sure Jean-Paul will provide you with some legal advice if you are able to take his penis out of your mouth long enough for him to string a coherent argument together.

But when I finally summoned the courage to click on the chat, the messages there were ones I’d never expected.

They escalated in a similar way. Short, to-the-point ones that grew longer and longer with each one sent. All of them similar, none of them threatening, most inappropriately businesslike, and only one of them that mattered.

Dad

Please answer your phone. From Dad.

Dad

Please listen to my message. I would like to say something to you. From Dad.

Dad

I know you are ignoring me. I understand. I would still like to speak to you when you have some time. From Dad.

Dad

Nellie, I need to speak with you about what happened the last time you were here. I would appreciate the opportunity to discuss the situation and attempt to come to a resolution. From Dad.

Dad

I have not told Kimberlee yet that this will be the last message I send you. I expect she will tell you she has requested I apologize to you as a condition of her accepting my apology to her. I have not told her yet I have been trying to reach you since before she spoke with me and I cannot bring myself to keep pressing when I am very aware that you are not interested in hearing from me. Nor have I told her that I cannot apologize to you. Because there is no apology on Earth I would accept from someone who hurt my daughter the way I have, and I cannot advise you to accept mine. Regardless of that, please know I am sorry for how I have treated you, both this most recent visit and all the times prior that I must apologize for. I love you very much, ma fille ange. Love Dad.

And I cried.

Because of course I did.

And when I was done crying, I cried some more, because apparently I wasn’t actually done.

And then I picked up my phone again.

“’Lo?” Sydney mumbled.

“Syd?”

“Nell? It’s… dude, it’s two a.m.”

I blinked at the clock. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“What—” She stopped to cough, then stifled a yawn. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I come with you tomorrow?”

“Today.”

“Huh?”

“It’s two a.m. We leave at eight. We’re splitting gas for Reid’s truck three ways, you’re on the hook for coffee, and I call shotgun.”

The line clicked dead. After I got up and threw a bunch of clothes in a bag for the next day—today, as Syd had said, but in my mind days started after I’d slept regardless of the actual time—I typed a quick message.

Me

I will be in Montreal tomorrow. We can meet for lunch. John Jean’s Pub.

Just before I went to sleep, my phone buzzed with a response.

Dad

Thank you, Nellie. Love Dad

When my dad arrived at the restaurant the next day, the first thing I thought was that he looked old.

It wasn’t a bad thing. He looked old in a natural way, like the uncertainty and remorse on his face were dynamite that had blasted away cliffs and crevices to reveal the man beneath, an actual human who had taken stone after stone that was thrown at him and stacked it until he became the unfeeling mountain he was.

He looked like a man who could cry.

“I thought Kimberlee would come with you,” I said when he walked up to the table.

“I asked her not to,” my dad replied. “But if you would like her to attend, I can call and—”

“No,” I said. “It’s fine.”

He nodded once, stiffly, and sat down.

“I ordered some of Dee’s Nuts,” I said. “The ones we had last time.”

“Thank you,” he said.

There was a long, awkward silence.

And then, without prompting, my dad began to talk.

He told me things he’d never said before. Things he’d never shared before, because why would anyone share things like that with a child? Things that hurt to hear as much as it hurt to know that I couldn’t excuse the things he’d done because of them, not that he was asking me to. Things he never wanted me to know about because he thought if I knew how broken he was, it would make me think he didn’t want me.

Of course, he didn’t say any of it like that. Everything came out in a business-like tone, like he’d constructed the words a certain way and fit them all together neatly. But it didn’t seem fake . I could fill the rest of the emotion in myself and realize that it was the best he could do right now, that what I saw in front of me was the result of all the work he’d done with Kimberlee’s help.

And yet, after all that, the thing that made me realize his apology was genuine was that he didn’t invite me to his dinner party that night.

I mean, he did.

But he didn’t insist I attend.

“It was planned before I knew you would be here today,” he said. “But you do not need to come. Or if you would like to come stay in your room, we will cancel it. I will call—”

“It’s okay,” I said. “I have a hotel. With Syd. And we have, um, plans tonight.”

He nodded. “I understand.”

I don’t know if he actually did. It didn’t matter, not when there was so far to go before anything was truly solved. I didn’t magically walk away from lunch with my dad feeling like twenty-two years of the mess that was our relationship had been wiped away.

But he asked about my life while we had lunch. I told him about my ADHD assessment and he listened thoughtfully. Instead of deciding it was a flaw to hide so I could be his perfect daughter, he asked what I needed from him for support, then told me to have whatever therapist I ended up working with call Pierre to put a payment method on file.

And he smiled when I told him about the grade I got on my midterm paper, and said that he was glad I’d done well even though I hated the class, and didn’t twist it to suggest I go to law school again.

So no, nothing was completely fixed. But I walked away with maybe one or two less of those issues I had with my daddy, as it were, so it wasn’t all for nothing.

And maybe, with time, it would be something.

“So it was good,” I said to Sydney as we did our makeup to go out to the club that night. “I think things are really looking up, actually.”

“About time,” she said in a dejected tone. “You deserve it.”

I grimaced. “I’m sure things will work out for you, too. Something must have happened for Olivier to not be at the luncheon.”

“Yeah,” she said vaguely, dabbing more blush on her cheeks.

“Did you call him or anything?”

She shook her head.

“It just doesn’t make sense. How did he—”

“If I knew, I’d tell you.” She took a breath in and let it out. “Let’s not let it get in the way of celebrating for at least one of us. I am super happy for you.”

“Thanks.” I smiled. “It’s great, actually. I’m getting treated for ADHD, I’m talking to my friends again, I’m not gonna fail that one class, everything’s good with my parents. It’s like, poof , just like that, everything’s resolved and there are definitely no loose ends for me to finish tying up.”