by Shana Norris
After driving down a few too many narrow streets, I found the Italian restaurant. I pulled into the parking lot between two shining luxury cars, squeezing myself out of my car so I wouldn’t scratch them.
My heart pounded along with my footsteps as I made my way across the parking lot toward the door. Would I even recognize my dad when I saw him? I didn’t know a whole lot about him. As far as I knew, he was still married to Lana, a girl he had met in college. And they had two kids together, Kyle and Cynthia, my half brother and half sister.
I paused with my hand hovering over the door handle. Nausea curled in my stomach. Maybe this had been a bad idea. I could still turn around and go back to Asheville, pretending I had never even come.
But I pulled the door open.
A young woman with shiny black hair and a wide smile greeted me from the hostess podium. Her white shirt was pristine and starched, without a wrinkle in sight.
“Welcome,” she said. She looked me up and down, like she was confused about what I’d be doing at that restaurant. I tugged at the waist of my dress. “How many in your party?” she finally asked.
“Um,” I said as I peeked over her shoulder at the dining room. “I’m actually meeting someone here. Henry Nersinger? I’m not sure if he’s here yet.”
The woman checked her list and then nodded. “Ah, yes, he’s here. Please come this way,” she chirped.
My knees shook a little as I followed the woman through the dining room. She was entirely too peppy for the anxiety racing through me.
I spotted my father at a table in the corner. He was so absorbed in his phone that he didn’t even notice us as we approached the table. He looked a lot like I’d remembered—brown hair trimmed neatly and a clean-shaven face. He had gained a little weight, but not too much. His light blue shirt was buttoned up to his throat. I glanced at his shining brown shoes, wishing I had picked something different than my ratty flip-flops.
He looked up and saw me, the skin around his brown eyes crinkling in recognition. “Kate,” he said, standing up and holding out his arms. “It’s good to see you.”
Our hug was quick and professional.
“A server will be with you in a moment,” the hostess said, smiling as she turned and left us alone.
I settled into the chair across from my dad with a soft squeak. “Well,” he said. “You’ve grown a lot since I last saw you. You’re practically a woman now. Eighteen, right?”
“Yep. Eighteen in June,” I said. I wasn’t sure if he really didn’t remember my age, or if he was just trying to sound casual.
“Wow,” he said, raising his eyebrows. This close up, I could see that strands of gray now mixed with his brown hair. He looked tired, too, his eyes shadowed by dark circles.
I didn’t know a lot about my father, but Andrea had told me that he was a party guy. Someone who drank too much and never wanted a real relationship. She had seemed shocked when he’d finally gotten married eight years ago and then had two children with his wife.
“How are Kyle and Cynthia?” I asked, thinking of my younger brother and sister. I had seen pictures of them, but had never met them. Lana wasn’t sure they were old enough, and I definitely didn’t want to push it.
“They’re great,” Henry said. A waiter came by and took our drink orders and then Henry opened his menu. “They have the best pasta primavera here. It’s my weakness.”
“Kyle started kindergarten last year, right?” I asked. “Is Cynthia starting preschool this year?”
Henry nodded. “Yes, they’re both really smart. Lana works hard to make sure they know the alphabet and numbers and all.” He closed his menu and set it on the table in front of him. “What about you? Did you graduate yet?”
“Yes,” I said. “I graduated in June.”
“How were your grades?”
“Good,” I said. “I mean, I wasn’t valedictorian or anything, but I was top ten in the class.”
“Hey, that’s great!” he said. The server brought us water and then took our orders. Henry got the pasta primavera. Despite his recommendation, I went for the baked manicotti.
“Are you going to college?” Henry asked once the server had left again.
I took a sip of my sweet tea before answering. “I got into Greensboro.”
Henry’s eyes lit up. “Greensboro College is a good school. What are you planning to major in?”
“Math,” I said automatically.
“Nice,” Henry commented. “I wish I could say that you got your math gene from me, but that would be a lie. I can hardly add and subtract.”
I made myself laugh along with him a little.
“Do you need any money for school?” he asked. “I could help you out if you need it.”
He hadn’t ever offered to help me with anything before, so it was weird to hear him offer now. I shifted in my seat, and slowly shook my head. “No, actually, I’m up for a scholarship soon. It’ll pay for my whole four years if I get it.”
“That’s amazing,” Henry said. “Really special, Kate. You could do so many things with a degree in math. My friend’s daughter just got her first job at a bank …”
I nodded at all the right parts of his story, even though the idea of working for a bank was making my head swim.
Soon, we fell into silence and the seconds ticked by agonizingly slow. The last time I’d seen him, Pop had been with me, so Pop kept up the conversation for both of us. I wished desperately that Pop were there now. I wasn’t ready to bring up my real reason for this lunch meeting.
It was a relief when the server brought our steaming plates to us. At least that gave me something else to focus on other than trying to think of something to say to a man I barely knew, despite the fact that I was half created from his DNA.
“Are you working anywhere?” Henry asked after we’d settled into our meals.
I nodded as I swirled a bit of manicotti through the chunky marinara sauce on my plate. “Mountain Dairy,” I said. “I’ve been working there the last couple of years.”
Henry’s face broke into a happy grin. “I always loved that place. I used to work there, during the summers when I was in high school. I never saved very much because I’d usually end up spending most of the money I made on the ice cream. Just couldn’t resist.”
I had never known that he’d worked at Mountain Dairy, too.
“I’m also doing a lot of DJ gigs,” I said. “I’m renting some DJ equipment from this place in town and I’ve been working at parties. I’ve had a few different jobs already, people I knew from school or other people who recommended me to their friends. It’s been a lot of fun.”
“I’ll bet,” Henry said, looking impressed. “That’s very ambitious of you. Shows you have the making of a good businesswoman.”
I shrugged and looked back down at my plate. “Well, it’s something I wanted to try. I don’t know if I’ll keep it up once I start school in a few weeks.”
We fell into silence again as we worked at our meals. Other diners had filled the room around us, the buzz of their voices filtering toward us. Why did it seem so easy for all of them to talk? I guessed that none of them were eating with the father they had only seen a handful of times in their lives.
I cleared my throat. “So, um, I actually wanted to ask you something.”
Henry took a sip of his drink, raising his eyebrows. “Oh?” he asked as he set his glass back down.
“I have this … friend,” I started, pushing at the colorful plastic bracelets on my arm that clinked against the table when I moved. “He’s not sure what he wants to do about college in the fall.”
Henry’s face looked blank.
“Your brother, um, Uncle Mark,” I said. “Does he still work as one of the deans at UNC-Greensboro?”
“Yes,” Henry said. “For the business school there.”
“I was hoping that maybe my friend could talk with him,” I said slowly. “Maybe get some advice to help him make a decision about what to do about college
. Do you think you could call him and help me set up a meeting?”
Henry’s eyes darted to a passing server and then back to me.
“It won’t be anything really long. Just a few minutes of his time, whenever might be convenient for him. My friend would come to him, he won’t have to come to Asheville or anything.”
Henry rubbed at his temple, but he nodded. “I’ll call him and see what I can do. I’ll let you know.”
I couldn’t help the relieved smile that spread across my face. “Thank you.” At least my reason for coming to Charlotte hadn’t been an entire waste.
“Also, do you think maybe I could meet Kyle and Cynthia sometime soon?” I asked quickly.
Henry set his fork down on his plate and wiped his mouth with his napkin before answering. His already weary expression turned even stonier, the wrinkles around his eyes and across his forehead deepening. “I don’t know, Kate. I’d have to talk to Lana about that.”
That meant no.
“Why doesn’t she like me?” I asked. “She’s never even bothered to get to know me.”
Henry closed his eyes for a moment before he spoke. “It’s hard, Kate. I’ve come a long way and cleaned myself up. And in some ways, Lana is still dealing with the person I used to be.” He—quickly—patted my hand with his before snatching it away. “I’ll definitely talk to her about it.”
Could people change? The question echoed in my head and I realized that my dad had changed. He had grown out of the party boy Andrea thought he was. He had a family—one that didn’t quite include me, but still. He had one.
I suddenly didn’t have an appetite anymore. My throat closed up really tight and my eyes stung, my vision blurring a little. I set my fork on the table and pushed my chair back. “I should get going. It’s a long drive back to Asheville.”
“Kate—”
“Thanks for the favor. About Uncle Mark,” I called over my shoulder as I hurried toward the doors.
The realization fell onto me like a weight—I didn’t come here for Rory. I came here for me, and it had been a mistake.
He grabbed my arm just as I reached the door, but I couldn’t look at him. Tears threatened to spill along my eyelashes.
“Hey,” he said. “I’ll talk to Lana, I promise. We’ll set up a date for you to come see Kyle and Cynthia.”
“Okay, thanks,” I said. “I need to go. See you … sometime.”
I pulled my arm from his grasp and hurried away from the restaurant before he could call me back.
I was only a few blocks from the restaurant when I came upon a small music store. I needed something to take my mind off the conversation I’d just had with my dad, so I decided to go in.
“Hello,” the woman at the counter greeted. “Can I help you find anything?”
“I’m looking for a special guitar strap for a … friend,” I said, feeling heat creep up my neck as I tried to decide what to call Rory. “Something unique.”
The woman grinned and gestured for me to follow her. “I think we have something you might like.” Her long floral skirt swished around her ankles as she walked and I hurried to keep up with her. We wound through the shelves and displays until we reached a wall with a ton of guitar straps hanging from display pegs. They were amazing works of art. I could imagine Ashton commenting on the colors and lines in the designs, how they evoked different emotions and memories in her.
I studied the straps, pulling down a few that I liked best. I picked out one with skulls on it, one with a braided green design, and one with crisscrossed designs—but none of them felt quite right.
Maybe this was a stupid idea. What would Rory think if I suddenly showed up with a gift for him? I didn’t want to move too fast. Maybe this thing wasn’t as much of a big deal to him as it was to me.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a message from my father.
I called Mark. He’s agreed to meet with your friend. Next Thursday at 2:00pm at his office.
The same day as my interview for the scholarship. Maybe Rory and I could drive out to Greensboro together.
Thank you, I texted back.
As I stuffed my phone back into my pocket, I looked up and a guitar strap I hadn’t noticed before caught my eye. Swirling designs of red and gray and yellow splashed across a black background.
“That’s it,” I told the lady next to me, who had waited patiently as I looked over the straps. “That’s the one I need.”
She took the strap down and we walked back through the shop to the counter.
Chapter 17
“Where have you been?” Andrea asked when I got home later. She was, of course, at Mimi and Pop’s house once again, tossing popcorn into her mouth. She might as well have just packed up all of her stuff and moved in if she was going to spend that much time at our house.
I thought about lying, saying I was out with Ashton or even Rory, but then I decided that I didn’t have anything to hide.
“I went to Charlotte,” I said, tossing my hair over my shoulder and lifting my chin. “To see Henry.”
Andrea and Paisley had been flipping through magazines on the couch, but now Andrea’s hand froze in midair, the magazine limp on her lap. She stared up at me with wide blue eyes, her mouth hanging open for a moment before regaining her composure.
“You went where?” she asked, blinking as if she either hadn’t understood me or just couldn’t believe that I’d actually said what she thought I’d said.
“To Charlotte.” I tossed my bag on the armchair and went over to kiss Pop’s cheek. He sat in his recliner, his feet propped up and the TV turned to a golf game. But his eyes weren’t on the TV, they were moving between Andrea and me.
“And why exactly would you do that?” Andrea asked.
“Because he’s my father,” I said. “And I wanted to visit him.”
Andrea closed the magazine and slapped it on the coffee table, jumping to her feet suddenly. “You have no business seeing him,” she snapped. Her face had suddenly turned red all around her cheeks and neck, and her eyes had a wild look to them. “He’s a deadbeat who has never bothered to have any part in your life.”
I crossed my arms. “Like you’ve had a part in my life?”
“Kathryn,” Pop said warningly. “You don’t speak to her like that. She’s still your mother.”
Tears burned in my eyes and I spun around to face Pop, my nails digging into my flesh. “No, she’s not. She’s never bothered to have anything to do with me, and now that I’m eighteen, she thinks she can tell me what to do? That’s not going to happen.”
“He’s not the kind of person you need to be around, Kathryn,” Andrea said. “He’s manipulative and he lies to get what he wants.”
“Maybe you should have thought about that before you slept with him,” I snapped. I grabbed my bag and stomped toward my room, slamming the door shut behind me.
But still, the words I’d just said hung in my thoughts. Shame washed over me, and I wished I could turn around and take it back. Mimi and Pop had raised me to be a better person than that.
I listened for sounds from downstairs—yelling, crying, talking. But there was nothing.
Tears fell down my cheeks. Silence was worse than screaming.
A soft knock sounded on my door and then it opened just enough to allow Paisley to peek in. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly.
I let my head fall against the bed frame, the thought of her with Rory flitting through my mind. “No,” I muttered.
Paisley stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “That’s not right of Aunt Andrea to say you can’t see your dad. I mean, even if he is like she says, he’s still your dad and you should have the right to spend time with him.”
“I’ve never even met my little brother and sister, do you know that?” I picked at a loose thread on my blue comforter. Paisley sat down next to me, then pulled her knees into her chest, letting her arm just touch mine.
Paisley frowned at my words. “I�
�m sorry, Kate. Do you …” She sucked in a deep breath, as if thinking carefully about her words. “Do you hate Aunt Andrea? For giving you up?”
I stared up at the cracks in my ceiling and considered her question for a long time before I answered. “No, not really. Sometimes I’ve felt like I did. But I don’t know what my life would be like if she had kept me, so I can’t say that it would have been better than the one I’ve had. And I love Pop and Mimi, and can’t imagine not growing up with them.” Oddly enough, it was nice having Paisley on my bed with me, listening to everything I had to say. “So no, I don’t hate Andrea. I mean, I understand why she gave me up. I can’t imagine having a baby right now. I would be terrified.”
Paisley leaned back on the bed, her wild auburn hair spread out around her head on the comforter. “What about your dad? Do you hate him for not being in your life at all?”
“A little,” I admitted. “I wonder what my life might have been like if he had wanted me, if he’d tried to be a dad when I was born. And I wonder why Andrea didn’t try harder with him.”
“Maybe she was afraid of his rejection,” Paisley told me. “So she rejected him first, to protect herself. Maybe she didn’t know how to talk to him about how scared she was.”
I stared up at the ceiling. Paisley pulled a tissue out of a box on my dresser and pressed it into my hand. “No matter how afraid they were or how hard it was, they should have sat down and talked about this whole thing,” I said. “Planned out what would happen in the future and decide what was best. Having a baby isn’t something that affects just one person.”
When Paisley didn’t say anything, I looked over at her. Her fingers twisted around a strand of her hair. Her face was scrunched into deep lines, like she was thinking hard.
“You okay?” I asked.
Paisley blinked at me and nodded. “I’m fine.”
I was about to press her for more when my phone pinged in my pocket. I pulled it out—and I wasn’t surprised to see a text from Miguel.
Bonfire tomorrow night! You should come.
She rolled over onto her side and looped her arm around me. Before I could hide it, she saw the text. “So,” she asked slowly. “Bonfire?”