“Maybe I do, but that doesn’t mean it’s open for discussion.”
“We’re supposed to be close, right? You expect us to freely discuss our love lives,” Geena replied.
“Or lack thereof,” Piper added.
“But I’m your big sister. I’m supposed to ask about those kinds of things,” I protested.
“Oh really?” Geena looked at me with a raised brow. “Where’s that one written down? Is there a secret handbook for firstborns that I don’t know about?”
The conversation was getting completely out of hand and I knew there was only one way to get the topic off of my dating or not dating Mark. “Look,” I said, “Dad gets here in twenty-four hours. We need to decide what we’re going to do.” It was a cheap shot, but I knew I had to take it. “Are we going to ask him for the truth?”
Chapter 5
The next day we waited rather impatiently. With spaghetti simmering on the stove, we watched the clock, feeling the tension mount as we anticipated Dad’s arrival. We’d all agreed that we would talk to him about the past and clear the air once and for all. We just weren’t sure how to go about such a task. Should we eat first and then bring it up? Should we just get right to it and use food as a distraction when things got rough? Unfortunately, there wasn’t a manual that told you how to go about confronting your father for murdering your mother.
Piper had suggested we make Dad a special meal, and so the spaghetti supper was born. Geena and I had long ago mastered a recipe that everyone seemed to like, so we went to work on that while Piper put together a salad and garlic bread.
By the time Dad arrived, the rain had stopped. He came into the house and stood for a moment just looking around. We hadn’t seen him since Piper’s graduation and that had been for only a few hours. He was always traveling for business, it seemed.
“Well, the remodel was money well invested,” he said, turning to where the three of us girls stood. “You have any trouble getting here?” He put his suitcases by the stairs.
“No. We pretty much drove right to it, thanks to the GPS,” Geena answered.
“And the caretakers had it clean and fully stocked,” I added.
“I don’t remember much about this place or town,” Piper offered with a sigh. “I feel like it’s all new to me.”
He nodded but changed the subject. “What smells so good?”
“We made a special dinner . . . spaghetti,” Piper said, smiling. “We used the very best ingredients—fresh everything. Come and sit.”
Why did I have the feeling we were coaxing an old dog to the vet to be put down? Dad’s whole demeanor was foreign to me. He was still the same no-nonsense sort of man, but there was something about him that I couldn’t quite figure out. I’d had that feeling at Piper’s graduation as well, but there hadn’t been time to investigate it—maybe now there was.
“I’m starved,” he said, taking a seat. “Seems that flight out here gets longer every time I take it, and I was only coming from Chicago.” He took up his napkin and looked at it for a moment. “These must be new.”
I glanced at the orange, green, and white-striped cloth and nodded. “Maybe they were added during the remodel.”
“You’re probably right.” He glanced around again. “Doesn’t look much like it used to.”
Geena went to the kitchen and returned with the spaghetti, while Piper brought freshly toasted garlic bread.
“I know this might seem strange, but if you don’t mind,” Dad said as we joined him at the table, “I’d like to offer a prayer.”
The three of us fixed him with an identical look of shock. Our father had never been known for his spiritual convictions.
He smiled, knowing he’d taken us by surprise. “I’ll explain in a minute.” He bowed his head and began to pray.
Geena and Piper closed their eyes, but I just sat there, too stunned to act. Our mother had been devoted to church, but not so much our dad. To hear him pray and act as though this were an everyday occurrence was more than I could ignore.
“Amen.” He ended the prayer and reached for the salad. “This all looks wonderful. I sure am glad you all could come here. We’re going to have a great time.”
“You didn’t exactly give us much of a choice,” Geena said, taking the words right out of my mouth.
He looked a little sheepish. “I know, and for that I apologize. I was just . . . well . . . enthusiastic about my news. I didn’t want any of you to miss it, and I didn’t want to just share it at home like it was nothing special.”
“So what is this all about?” I asked. “You have to admit that coming back to this house wasn’t exactly something any of us anticipated. And now you open the evening in prayer. I’d say there’s a lot of explaining that needs to follow.”
Dad smiled, not in the leastwise offended, and passed the salad to Piper. “I’ve just got a lot to share with you girls, and this seemed like the right place and time.”
We passed the food around and once our plates were full, looked again to Dad for a continuation of his explanation.
“Is there coffee?” he asked, as if he didn’t notice our interest.
Geena nodded and got to her feet. “I’ll get it.”
“Thanks.” He twirled spaghetti onto his fork and then stuffed it in his mouth.
I leaned back in my chair and toyed with a piece of garlic toast. I watched Dad to see if I could discern anything out of order. The only thing that seemed different about him was a new haircut. Had he actually spiked his graying hair?
“So you’ve been gone an awful lot this year,” Piper said. “Does that have something to do with this sudden urge to vacation in Bremerton?”
Her tone was sarcastic, but Dad didn’t seem to mind. He continued eating and nodded. In between bites, he spoke. “It is. I’m really sorry that I was gone so much. Of course, you gals are grown women now and hardly need your father hanging around.”
Piper frowned. “You haven’t hung around since Mom died.”
I couldn’t help but suck in air rather noticeably. Geena looked at me and shrugged. I supposed it was inevitable—the game was on. There was no turning back now. Piper had rattled the box of secrets and was determined to lift the lid.
Dad put his fork down and looked at her. “You’re right, of course. I haven’t been a good father to you since that day.” He picked up a piece of toasted bread and sobered even more. “No, I was never a good father, period. I don’t blame you for being upset with me. I suppose that’s why I wanted you three to be the first to know about some changes I’ve made in my life.”
Piper sat back and folded her arms. “Like what? Praying before meals?”
I didn’t fault Piper for her words—she wasn’t saying anything the rest of us weren’t thinking. But as I looked at Dad, I found myself actually becoming rather annoyed. All of my life I’d felt like I had to make excuses for this man, for the fact that he hadn’t bothered to be around for our upbringing.
Dad dropped his gaze, and when he looked up again at us, his expression was mixed. Regretful, yes. But it also possessed a measure of determination. “I’ve gotten my life on track with God.”
You could have heard a pin drop on a pile of pillow stuffing. Geena narrowed her eyes. “Exactly what is that supposed to mean?”
He took another bite before answering, in no hurry to accommodate his stupefied daughters. Since when had God even entered into the picture? In our family, church and God had been something Momma instigated, and because of that, it just as quickly left when she died. Now I was truly starting to feel angry. How dare he come to us after years of all but ignoring us emotionally, to tell us that he’d found God? I suppose next he’d be seeking forgiveness and expecting us to overlook his absence.
“I want to tell you more about that in a little bit. First, however, there’s something else you need to know,” Dad continued. “I know this will come as a shock, but I hope you will hear me out.”
“This doesn’t sound like good n
ews,” I said, feeling great trepidation. “You said you had something good to tell us.”
He grinned. “It is good news. At least to me. I’m hopeful it will be for you as well, because it’s something that makes me really happy.”
“So tell us already,” Geena demanded.
Our gathering was beginning to feel like an interrogation, and not with the list of questions that we had figured to deal out.
“I’ve remarried.”
I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. I looked at him to gauge his seriousness and could see that he was telling it to us straight.
“You remarried?” Piper was the first to speak. “Just like that?”
Dad had the audacity to chuckle. “No, not exactly. I’ve known Judith for some time now. She’s worked with me for years.”
“Judith? The same Judith who manages your office in Chicago?” Geena questioned.
“The same. Judith and I have been friends for a long time,” he continued. “I hope you’ll welcome her, spend some time getting to know her.” He picked up his garlic toast again. “Our love for each other grew out of a solid friendship. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever known.”
“Not even with Mom?” Piper asked.
He frowned. “Your mother . . . well . . .” He looked at Piper. “Never mind.”
His tone left me chilled. To hear him now made me feel that perhaps we should let things drop. Maybe it was best that he didn’t want to talk about her after all these years. Maybe we had it good and just didn’t realize it. Fear was starting to replace my anger.
I thought back to the day I’d overheard our housekeeper, Mrs. Brighton, on the phone. I never knew who she was speaking with, but her comment to the listener held me in place until the end of the conversation.
“The poor kids. Their mother killed herself a year or so ago. It’s tragic to be sure. Their poor father never wants to even speak her name. I’ve never seen anyone grieve so hard.”
The words echoed in my mind even as I came to realize that Piper had gotten to her feet. I tried to focus on the matter at hand.
“You didn’t even bother to let us in on this.” Piper leaned on the table. “Now you want us to spend time with her? Get to know her? Should I call her Mommy?”
“Piper, calm yourself.” Geena turned to Dad. “It is a shock, you have to admit. We came here figuring you might want to tell us something else.”
“Like what?”
I shook my head and jumped up. “Look, like Geena said, this is a shock. I think we all need time to digest it.”
“Well, that’s why I came out here today. Judith is arriving tomorrow morning at SeaTac. I’ll pick her up and be back in time for lunch. I’m hoping we can go somewhere nice. Maybe up to the Yacht Club in Silverdale.”
“I can’t believe you can just act as if this is all perfectly fine.” Piper shook her head and knocked her chair backward in order to leave. “This family has issues to talk about. This family has spent a lifetime with secrets and heartache. We didn’t need a new mother. We needed answers.” She ran out before Dad could even reply.
He looked at Geena and then at me. “What was that all about? What kind of answers is she looking for?”
Geena got to her feet. “I’d better go see if I can calm her down.”
I felt usurped. Overseeing Geena and Piper’s well-being was my job. Instead, Geena left me to face Dad on my own. What was I supposed to do now? I couldn’t very well just blurt out the fact that we knew he’d overdosed our mother and we wanted to discuss it.
“I knew this would be a surprise for everyone, but I certainly didn’t expect hostility.” Dad sighed. “I suppose you’re mad at me too?”
I shook my head. “I’m not sure what I’m feeling. Confused might be the best way to describe it.”
He frowned. “Why confused?”
“You said you would never remarry.”
“That was because I felt you girls needed me to remain single.”
His answer threw me. “Why would you think that?”
He gave up trying to eat and looked at me. “I figured I needed to be devoted to your welfare.”
“And being gone three hundred days out of the year accomplished that? Sending us to boarding schools met that need?” Now I was getting mad again. I thought of the things my counselor had said about confronting the past. I tried to calm myself. “Dad, you were always gone—or we were.”
“True, but I sent you to the best schools. I worked harder and longer hours to make sure you wanted for nothing. I tried to spend as much time as I could at home in the summer when you girls were there.”
“We lived with housekeepers and nannies,” I said, my sense of disbelief quite evident. “Yes, our schooling was the best, but we were alone except for each other. Had you not insisted they room us together in the early years, we would have run away. We were left alone far too much, and the one person we wanted—needed—was you.”
He looked hurt, but what I’d said was the truth. He shook his head slowly and glanced upward. “I know I wasn’t a good father. I hope you’ll forgive me for that.”
“It’s got nothing to do with forgiveness. We lost our mother—we were three little girls whose lives had been completely turned upside down. But instead of getting us counseling or even just encouraging us to talk to you—you sent us away.” I was frighteningly calm and to the point. “We were alone and terrified.”
Dad reached out a hand toward me, then dropped it. It hung limply at his side. “I’m so very sorry. I never intended for you to be hurt that way. God knows you had already endured so much.”
“What’s with all this forgiveness and God stuff?” I asked. “You were never concerned about these things when we were growing up.”
“I know, and I’m sorrier about that than anything else.”
Sorrier than for killing our mother?
I didn’t ask the question aloud, but I wanted to. I thought of Mark and something he’d once said about God making us into something new. I hadn’t given it much thought at the time because religious nonsense wasn’t of interest. Now, however, I found myself wishing I knew more. Was religion why Dad had a different look? Was he trying to be something—someone—new? How could he possibly do that without dealing with who he was and what he did in the past?
“Look, none of this makes sense. You told me a long time ago that the only things we needed in life were determination and drive. You said that we needed to set a goal and keep our eyes on the mark.”
“And now I’m going to tell you that I was wrong,” he said matter-of-factly. “You need to put your eyes on Jesus.”
I wasn’t about to sit and listen to this rhetoric. “I’m not interested in that.” I looked at him without a shred of compassion. “I want to know why you’ve never been honest with us about Mom.”
He paled and looked more than a little disturbed. “I don’t know what it is you expect me to say.”
“For one, you might like to explain to us about mom’s mental illness. Didn’t you suppose we had a right to know?”
“How did you hear about that?” he asked.
I shook my head. “That’s all that concerns you? How I found out? Not that I should have been told years ago? Not that we all should have been put into therapy after our mother’s death? What about the fact that maybe with a counselor or psychiatrist seeing us on a regular basis, we wouldn’t have all of these secrets between us . . . that maybe I wouldn’t lay awake at night, wondering if one of us might follow in our mother’s footsteps.”
Dad was clearly disturbed—shocked even. It seemed only fair after his little announcement of remarrying, yet I suddenly felt very guilty for having ruined his happiness.
“I never wanted you to know,” he finally said. He sounded so tired.
“But why not?” I asked. “We have a right to know the risks to our own health. We have a right to know a lot of other things too.”
He looked at me and nodded. “I suppose you do.”
> Chapter 6
Answers weren’t forthcoming that night. Geena and Piper were nowhere to be found, and I definitely didn’t want to hold a conversation about Mom’s death on my own. By the time my sisters returned and found me in my bedroom, it was nearly ten and Dad had already gone to bed.
I suggested to my sisters that we do likewise, but Piper wanted no part of that. “How can we just go to bed? I couldn’t sleep if I had to. He’s remarried, just like that? Frankly, the fact that he never even told us he was considering it makes it all very suspicious.”
“Suspicious?” I questioned. “Of what?”
Piper waved her arms as if to emphasize the importance. “Of everything. How could he be carrying on with Judith all this time and not let us know it was getting serious? How could he just remarry without talking to us about it? What if he plans to repeat the past?”
My mind whirled. She was right. How could he be carrying on with Judith all this time and not let us know it was getting serious? How could he just remarry without talking to us about it? What if he has some sort of mental disorder? I’d never considered that he could be just as troubled as Momma. “You mean as in overdosing Judith?”
“Exactly,” Piper replied, flipping her bobbed brown hair as she snapped her head toward Geena. “We both think it’s possible, and why not. He did it once.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think that even makes sense. There was a strong reason for doing what he did. He did it for us.”
“What about insurance money?” Geena asked. “Did Mom have a lot of it? Did Dad stand to gain financially?”
I tried to remember if I’d ever seen any life insurance policies. “I have no idea. You are making him really sinister, Geena. I figured he was doing what he did to save us.”
“Save us from what?” Piper asked.
“Our mother and . . .” I let the words fade. I wasn’t ready yet to talk about her problems. I really wanted to talk to Dad about it first. I wanted him to tell us the truth in his own words—from his firsthand knowledge. He would have been the one the doctors talked to. He would have received all of the intricate details of mom’s condition.
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