by Naomi Niles
Rhett
‘Mom’
I stared at the name that was flashing up on my phone’s screen for a few moments, just knowing that a phone call from her was not going to be good. I’d been staying at James’s for a while, trying to avoid everyone while my dad continually tried to talk to me, but I knew that I couldn't hide forever and I was going to have to face reality eventually. However much I didn’t like it.
I knew why she would be calling, and that made me even less inclined to pick up.
Dad and Mom might have been split up for a very long time, but she’d never tried to keep me away from him. In fact, she actively encouraged us to have contact, to form some kind of relationship because she was a great believer in the influence of both parents. It was because of his shitty inability to stick to plans, and eventually my decision not to bother with him, that we didn’t speak anymore. Mom knew why, and although she respected my decision, she certainly didn’t like it.
I just knew that if Dad had told her I was ignoring him, she would let me have it for sure. She wouldn’t like me being rude because she would see that as a poor reflection on her. She was a very moral and just woman, which had its benefits, but it also had its awful downfalls. And when it came to my dad, that was the worst one.
I took a deep breath, preparing for the worst before answering. I wouldn’t ignore the one parent who had always been there for me, no matter what happened, no matter how little I wanted to hear her opinion on the subject.
“Hi, Mom,” I started, but of course, she wasn't going to let me get a word in edgewise. She was mad, which meant a rant was coming and I wouldn’t be able to stop it no matter what I did–a lesson I’d learned the hard way during my rebellious teenage years.
“Don’t you ‘hi, Mom me.” Yep, there was definitely a whole lot of anger there. “Where have you been? What have you been doing?” I knew she was just doing this to be dramatic. She knew for a fact that I was pretty much always at James’s if not at home, and she had no reason for concern–at twenty-two, I was perfectly old enough to come and go as I pleased.
“I’ve been at James’s-” I began, hoping that she was actually going to let me speak before she got to the point, but deep down I knew that I was unlikely, and I was about to be proven right.
“Your dad has been trying to call you with some very important news, and I really think that you need to speak to him.”
I’d never understood how she was always so calm about him when he’d spent his life being such a jerk. He abandoned us, left us in debt, and lived a care-free lifestyle, while we faced difficulties every day. He’d also upset me every single time I saw him, and I wasn't willing to forgive that.
On top of that, I’d always assumed that he’d been cheating on Mom when they’d been together, and on every woman since, but of course that wasn't something I could prove, and Mom certainly had no intention of telling me. She wouldn’t say anything to taint my opinion of him, so I never truly got to the root of her real feelings. I could only assume what she thought.
“Mom, I don't want to speak to him,” I said, trying to sound as calm and rational as possible. “He’s a dick, and you know it.” Might as well be honest here–I couldn't see any point in beating around the bush. I needed her to see how serious I was.
“I know, but he’s still your dad. I might not have any love for the man, but he’s your blood. You might call yourself Rhett Jones now, but you’re a Fronton, and you always will be. Calling yourself a different name doesn’t change who your family is.”
I hated it when she reminded me of that.
“You need to put the past behind you. He might even be calling to reconcile with you, to make up for all the crappy things that he’s done. You’ll never know if you don't give him the chance.”
This made me mad, but I attempted to keep it under control as much as I possibly could. “How do you make up for not being around since I was two, except to pop in now and again to stir everything up?” I’d always tried to hide the damage that Dad had done to me from Mom because I never wanted her to feel guilty for anything, and I only brought it up a little now to drive my point home.
“He’s a horrible man who doesn’t deserve even a second of my time. Why now? Why has it always got to be on his terms? Why hasn’t he ever seen me on the millions of occasions that I needed him?” Everything was tumbling out of my mouth now, and it was becoming difficult to stop it.
“Rhett,” Mom spoke in a calm and considered tone of voice. “I fell out with my dad for years over something very silly. We didn’t speak for the latter part of his life, and I didn’t feel bad about that until he died. I was so obsessed with my personal sense of justice that nothing else mattered. I knew that I was right, and that was all I cared about.”
My heart began to thump. I’d never heard my mom talk about my grandpa, who died before I was born.
“He went suddenly, died of an unexpected heart attack, so I had no chance to say goodbye, and that didn’t hit me until the funeral. I don't want you to have the same guilt that I do. Your dad won’t be around forever, and this might be your one and only chance to reconcile with him–and that’s an opportunity I would kill for.”
My heartrate increased and my mouth ran dry as I considered this. Somehow, my mom might have landed the home run, she might have just convinced me to do what I really didn’t want to. Maybe, just maybe, she was right.
And, I hated her for that.
“Okay,” I sighed resignedly. “I’ll call him at some point today.”
“Not some point. Now,” she said firmly, knowing me far too well. “And, you’ll come home tonight. I miss you.”
“Love you, Mom.” I accepted her terms, suddenly wanting to see her face again, too.
“Love you, too.”
I stuffed my phone into my pocket, having no intention of doing anything right away. I needed some time to think first, to get my emotions in check, so I grabbed hold of one of James’s surfboards before heading out onto the ocean. There was nothing better than being in the waves for clearing my head and allowing me to make the right choice for me.
***
It wasn't until the very next morning as I headed to work that I finally took the plunge and made the call. I went home to Mom’s far too late for a grilling, so luckily, I hadn’t been forced to lie to her, and now I could discuss the conversation without specifying the time it actually happened. I’d decided on the morning to call because I knew it would restrict me. I wouldn’t be able to talk for too long before my shift started, which was perfect. I didn’t have enough to say for a long, in-depth chat.
Ring, ring.
I felt more anxious than I should as the phone rang loudly and intrusively in my ear. My heart raced, and I felt my steps increase, as if I wanted to arrive long before my shift began. I was expecting the worst, or at the very least an argument for not returning his calls earlier, but what I got was the complete opposite.
“Hi, son,” Dad said warmly, throwing me a bit. “How are you?”
“Erm...okay,” I replied, too confused to think of a witty reply. “And...and you?” His attitude towards me was very unnerving, and I didn’t know how he expected me to take it. I was used to the abrasive, rash version of him, not this. It was too weird for words.
“I’m very well.” There was an edge to his voice, one that would be explained in his next few words. “In fact, I’ve been trying to call you to let you know that I’m getting married.”
My heart sunk at his words. Despite everything, it hurt that he was willing to take on another family, but not his own. He’d abandoned me, missing my childhood, and now he was going to have another chance. He could be a dad again, whereas I would never get another parent. Chances were he would even go on to have more kids–depending on how young his wife was–which would leave me...
Well, I didn’t know where. Worse off than before, at any rate. If he ignored me before, only dipping in and out when it suited, then what would stop him from c
utting me off completely when he had another child?
I tried to harden up, to really not care in the way that I hadn’t for the past few years, but it was challenging. There was a large lump of emotion in my throat that I couldn't seem to swallow, no matter how hard I tried.
“Congratulations,” my tone was strained, but he managed to totally brush over that, in typical dad fashion. He ignored anything that didn’t quite suit his latest whim.
“And, we would love for you to come. If you like?” Then his tone changed, as if another idea had hit him. “In fact, why don't you come and stay with us for a while before? Get to know Lyla–my fiancée–and her daughter.”
Great, another kid already. Another man’s child that he would love more than his own.
His tone might have been excited, but I couldn't match that however hard I tried.
“Erm, yeah?” I answered without really thinking. My mind was everywhere, nowhere near capable of making any solid decisions. “Okay,”
“Great, well, we will get everything set up for you.” As Dad went on to plan which room he would set me up in, resentment hit once more. Mom and I had always struggled financially, while he had more money than he knew what to do with, and yet here he was unashamedly talking to me about it. He was discussing his massive home with his new wife and kid, whereas we had to work damn hard for every penny we had. It just didn’t seem fair.
But it was too late to back out now, to tell him I wasn't coming. It would cause too much of an argument, so for the time being, I would continue to act like I wanted to go. If I changed my mind, I would have to call him with an excuse later on. For now, I would have to just listen, and try to ignore the bitterness threatening to eat me up alive.
Then I realised that I was going to have to tell my mom that he was getting remarried. He would never have had the courage to do so. He might have mentioned big news to her, to get me to call, but that would have been it. Dad had always been a coward, and whatever changes he was acting like he’d gone through now, I knew that was going nowhere.
I knew that Mom didn’t love him anymore, but I didn’t like the thought that this might upset her all the same...
Chapter Eleven
Danica
The lights in the bridal shop were bright and extremely white, yet as I stared into the full-length mirror in front of me, I also realized that they were incredibly flattering. They somehow managed to make me look about a million times better than I actually did. My hair looked shiner and much less messy than it had at home, and my eyes had regained their sparkle—I even could have sworn that I looked slimmer. I kept examining myself from every single angle and coming up with exactly the same conclusion.
Of course, the mirrors were obviously designed that way to encourage hapless brides to purchase the extortionately-priced dresses, but despite knowing that, I couldn’t seem to stop looking at myself. It was fascinating to see this airbrushed version of me.
“Danica, are you ready?” Mom called out from one of the dressing rooms to me. I could hear the edge of excitement in her voice, and it was more than a little infectious–everything about the store made me feel excited.
There was no way that I could avoid the wedding jitters in here, and a happy anticipation was coursing through my veins at the prospect of seeing my mom in her wedding dress for the very first time was filling me with nerves and joy equally. This was her final fitting, and because I hadn’t been around for the original dress buying, I’d all but insisted that I come. There was no way I could wait until the day to find out what beautiful gown she would be wearing.
“I’ve been waiting for ages,” I yelled back teasingly. “Come out already before I give up and go home.”
I held my breath, not knowing what to expect. I’d had the dress described to me, but I knew that seeing it in person would be something else. I felt time tick past slowly as I impatiently waited, then after what felt like forever, the dressing room door swung open to reveal a vision in white. The dress was long, flowing, and swirled around my mother like a dream. It gave her a regal, queen-like appearance that literally took my breath away.
She’d told me that it was the dress, and I could see exactly what she meant.
“Oh my God,” I gasped, throwing my hands up over my mouth. “Mom, you look absolutely amazing.” I tried to express my happiness, but I couldn’t quite find the right words.
“Do you like it?” Her eyes were shining with pleasure, which made me well up with emotional tears. In all the years I’d been alive, I’d never seen her look so glowing and filled with joy. She was so obviously the happiest that she’d ever been, and that made me feel more settled about everything that was happening. I’d been so wrapped up in getting it all organized, that I hadn’t really considered my own feelings on the wedding for a while now.
But looking at her, I realized that I really didn’t need to worry. Everything was going to be fine.
“Mom, I absolutely love it,” I declared. “You’re the most beautiful bride that I’ve ever seen.” I threw my arms lightly around her, trying to hug her without ruining her dress. I’d seen the price tag–this thing was worth more than my damn life!
“I just hope that it all goes okay,” her tone suddenly changed a bit, as she turned to face herself in the mirror. “It’s all a bit much.”
Her confidence took a hit and another emotion overtook her expression. It was the first time since I’d returned from Camp Woodtree that I’d heard her express any doubt whatsoever, and it had me on edge. What did she mean “okay?” Where was she going with this? Why did all my certainty only a few seconds ago vanish like a trace with that one look from her?
“What’s going on?” This was no time to beat around the bush. I needed to dive right into the center of the problem while we had this rare time alone. At home, there were always other people around. It was safe to say that it was now or never–if I didn’t get to the bottom of this, then chances are, I never would.
“I don’t know,” she sighed deeply. “I just keep thinking… What if Brad isn’t right? I mean, I never had any of these fears last time; I knew that your dad was right for me. And look how that turned out.”
“You were young then,” I tried to reassure her. “You had less concerns because you weren’t as aware about things.” Of course, I had no idea what I was talking about, but it seemed like the right thing to say. It seemed logical that wisdom and caution came with age at any rate.
“I really did love your dad,” she said, refusing to meet my eye. My heart stopped as she spoke, and I felt like I was frozen in time. She never really discussed my father with me, so I wasn’t really sure to do with this now–it felt it had come from nowhere. An unexpected bolt out of the blue.
“When he left me, my entire world fell away. I didn’t think that I would ever be here again. When I married him, it was life, and after him, I thought that was it for me.” She paused thoughtfully for a second. “I never expected to meet anyone like Brad.”
I didn’t remember my dad at all; he left the family when I was only a baby, so if she was asking for my permission to move on, she really didn’t have to. It had been a very long time, anyway. It was definitely acceptable.
Just because it had only been us forever, that didn’t mean I always wanted it to stay that way. My life would move on eventually anyway, and I never would have wanted to leave her behind–all lost and lonely.
This might not have been my decision, but I didn’t think it was the wrong one.
She was having cold feet; that much was obvious, but I was certain that was normal. I felt a wobble of confusion with every decision I made, never mind one as life altering as that! She didn’t need me getting into a debate of whether or not Brad was a good person right now–I didn’t know him well enough to make any decisions on that subject anyway–she just wanted confirmation that she wasn’t about to make a total fool of herself and that was exactly what I intended to give her.
“Mom, I know I said that things
were happening a little…quickly, at first, but you were right. When you know, you know, and you so clearly do.”
She glanced over to me with hope shining in her expression. This proved to me that what I was saying was right, that it was exactly what she needed to hear.
“I wish I’d had more time to get to know Brad a little better, but then there will be plenty of time for that afterwards.” I smiled at her, holding my hand over hers.
Then some real emotions flowed from me, and I said something that I really did mean. “I’m proud of you, Mom; this is the first time that I’ve ever known you to put yourself first, and you really do deserve that.” She was beginning to well up, but I wasn’t quite done yet. “Mom, trust me…trust yourself. This wedding is going to go extremely well, and so will your marriage afterwards.”
I knew that my mom was a smart woman, so if she thought this shotgun wedding would be all right, then so did I.
“When did you get so wise?” she asked, wiping a stray tear from her eye. I shrugged, feeling a heat burn in my cheeks. I wasn’t wise, not at all, but if she needed to believe that I was, then I would let that comment slide.
She sat in the seat next to me, sipping the flute of champagne that the shop assistant had left out for her, before Mom had asked her to leave us alone.
“You know,” she turned to face me full on. “I always thought that you would beat me down the aisle. I assumed you would be married long before I met anyone again.”
A weird feeling settled in my stomach at that prospect of her thinking about me getting married. It wasn’t something that I’d ever considered myself, so it seemed a little strange. Out of sheer embarrassment, I tried to change the subject back to her.
“Are you happy, Mom?” I asked awkwardly, not really sure why I was dragging this up all over again.
“I am,” she replied smiling widely. “I really am.”
“Good,” I nodded sharply, trying to pretend that my mind was only on her, that I wasn’t thinking about her crazy wedding notions at all. “That’s all I need to know.”