When It's Right

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When It's Right Page 20

by Victoria Denault


  I’m greeted by silence, which is an unexpected relief. I wonder if they’ve all left, but it seems doubtful, because it takes a lot of effort to take my dad anywhere right now. I walk slowly, almost tentatively, like a skittish mouse, down the main hall of the massive penthouse apartment. I glance into the den, but no one is there. The small home office my mom turned into a craft room: no one. The main hall powder room’s door is open, and it’s empty too. Winnie’s bedroom door is closed so I just scoot by that, praying the very old oak floorboards don’t creek. In the kitchen I open the fridge and find a plate with shakshuka and naan, covered in plastic wrap and topped with a Post-It note with my name on it, in my mom’s handwriting. I grab the plate, unwrap it, and stick it in the microwave.

  When it’s heated through, I move to the dining room, which is also empty, and devour my food. It’s still fantastic, even reheated. I finish it and even shamelessly lick the plate. Then I stick it in the dishwasher, grab another kombucha out of the fridge, and am about to head back into my room when my dad calls to me from his bedroom.

  “Pumpkin, can we talk for a minute?”

  I sigh and turn toward his bedroom. From the doorway I can see him lying in his special hospital-style bed, with his head elevated and a book in his lap. “You’re alone?”

  “No. You’re here. Winnie and Dixie took Mom to the movies. Jude and Eli went to practice. Zoey and Declan went home,” he explains. “Maria should be here in about twenty minutes to help me shower and do some physical therapy.”

  “Okay,” I say simply and play with a strand of my damp hair while I lean on the doorjamb.

  “Can you come in and keep your old man company until she gets here?”

  “Depends,” I reply and give him a small smile. “Is my old man going to act like a pod person or play psychiatrist or is he just going to be my fantastic old man?”

  “Just your dad. I promise.”

  I walk into the room, and he moves his legs so I can sit at the foot of the bed, facing him. My eyes fall to the book on his lap. Not surprisingly it’s a novel about nineteenth-century New England. Historical novels are his favorite. New England is his favorite. I nod toward the book. “Is it any good?”

  “It’s fascinating,” he replies. “This farmer has only daughters, five of them, and is struggling to find them good partners.”

  “Ah, the good old days when women weren’t allowed to make their own decisions.” I roll my eyes, and he chuckles.

  “It was the good old days,” he counters with a wink. “Because at least then I would be able to make sure you didn’t become an old maid.”

  I let out a whoop of amused shock, and it makes him grin so big it warms my heart. “There is not enough time in the world to talk about how annoyingly misogynistic that statement is, Dad.”

  “You know I was kidding,” he replies, his smile still big enough to warm my heart, but it starts to soften. “But I do worry about you. I didn’t mean to put too much on you.”

  “You didn’t,” I promise, and our eyes connect. That sixth sense of his is seeing right through me. “Okay, it’s a lot. It hurts. It’s hard, but I want to be here for everyone. I want to be there for you most of all. Whatever you need. Please don’t stop relying on me. I need you to rely on me. It’s hard because you’re dying and I can’t change that. So let me be there.”

  There is a lump in the center of my throat the size of a monster truck tire. I struggle against it. He reaches up and cups the side of my face, and I grab his hand and hold onto it. “You’re the only one who has the balls to use the D word. No one else can say I’m dying. That’s why I rely on you. But I need you to have someone to rely on too. Like this Griffin fellow. He seems to be looking out for you.”

  He pauses and takes some labored breathes. Talking is physically draining for him, but I am so grateful he is making the effort. The day I can no longer hear his voice is too close.

  “Griffin is incredible,” I admit, and a tiny sharp stab of pain hits me in the chest, like just admitting that is the equivalent of stabbing myself in the heart. “But his life is complicated right now too. He’s got a young daughter and he’s going through a custody problem with the ex, who wants to move to New York and take the daughter with her. If that happens…he’ll quit his job and move too.” My father absorbs that information and gives my hand another squeeze. “I don’t want to get more involved with him if I’m just going to lose him. I can’t willingly set myself up for heartbreak.”

  “He doesn’t feel the same way.”

  “He agreed with me.”

  “But he’s still looking out for you, making sure someone is there for you since you don’t want him there,” he replies.

  “I want him there. I just can’t.”

  “I’m not trying to pressure you, Sadie, I promise, but consider this,” my dad says and pauses until I look up and meet his eye. “If you told me, back when I was a kid, that my life was going to end this way, too soon and in such a shitty way, I would have still let myself fall in love with your mom. I would have still had every single one of you. The only thing I would have changed is I would have enjoyed the hell out of every single second even more than I did and not taken any of them for granted or worried about what-ifs or tried to protect myself.”

  I want to respond, but I’m choking on my emotions right now and can barely breathe, let alone speak. My dad pauses to rein in his own emotions, his eyes a little more watery than they should be. I panic he’s going to cry, but he pulls himself together. “The only reason I’m still here and I haven’t given up is because of the love I have for my family and your mother. It’s the only thing that’s made me fight this disease. Nothing is promised to us forever. But we have to take it when we can get it. Even if we see the expiration date coming.”

  I hear noise in the hall, and Maria calls out her arrival. I take a shallow, shaky breath because my chest is aching so hard. “In here, Maria!” I call and stand up and walk over to the head of the bed and hug my dad.

  “Love you, pumpkin,” he says as he rubs my back.

  “Afternoon, Mr. Braddock,” Maria says as she walks in with a smile.

  I give her a wave as I head out of the room to let them do what they need to do. There’s a knock at the front door, which stops me dead in the hall. Normally someone would have to buzz to get up to our apartment unless they have keys like Maria does. I look through the peephole and see Eli staring back at me. I unlock and open the door.

  “Hey!” he says and gives me a nervous smile. “How ya feeling?”

  “I’m good,” I say. “How did you get in?”

  He holds up Dixie’s Cookie Monster key chain. “I used Dixie’s keys, but I didn’t feel right just barging in.”

  “She’s not here,” I reply and open the door wider so he can step into the apartment.

  “I know, which is why I came to see your dad, actually.” He gives me another nervous smile.

  “I’m confused,” I say and shake my head.

  He kind of rocks on his feet nervously, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his jeans. “I also wanted to tell you, since I ran into you, that I’m sorry for passing on Griffin’s concerns to everyone. I just…well, I kind of agree with him. And I want you to know that you can come to me to vent or whatever if you want. I am kind of an expert on family drama.”

  Eli and Levi spent most of their lives at odds with their parents. Mr. and Mrs. Casco are not huge fans of their kids playing sports for a living. They even tried to talk Eli into leaving hockey when he was struggling to make the NHL. I give him a halfhearted smile. “Thanks.”

  “Griffin is a great guy, not just a great coach,” Eli tells me with sincerity in his gaze. “I know you know that, but I feel like I should remind you. Levi and I are taken, and so your options for guys this great are limited now.”

  I laugh, and it sounds so foreign. I haven’t done that since…I was with Griffin. I can’t think about it. I don’t want to right now. I’m already too overw
helmed, so I change the subject. “If you want to see my dad, you’d better get in there now before he gets in the shower.”

  Eli grins nervously again. What the hell is up with him? I am about to ask, but he heads into my dad’s room, knocking on the open door as he enters. I head back to my room, leaving the door open, and pick up my phone. No messages. No missed calls. I pull up the picture of Griffin and me horseback riding. I look happy. Deeply, purely, simply happy. So does he, for that matter.

  I don’t know how long I’m staring at it, but suddenly I hear my dad whoop, like he does when Jude scores in hockey. What the hell is going on?

  By the time I get to my dad’s room, Eli is walking out. His nervous grin has turned to one of elation and his trademark cocky swagger is back in full force. “Hey, Spinster Sadie.”

  “Ouch. Thanks,” I say and make a face. “What’s going on with my dad?”

  “He’s just happy.”

  “Clearly, but why?” I want to know.

  “Because he’s finally getting a better son than Jude,” Eli remarks with a wink, and I laugh again.

  “You’re getting better with the Jude snark, Eli. I commend you,” I say and then the meaning of his words sink in. “Wait…you asked Dixie to marry you?”

  He shakes his head. “Not yet. I wanted to get your dad’s blessing first.”

  “Oh, my God!” I almost scream in excitement. Eli shushes me, but I will not be silenced. I pull him into a hug. “This is so great! When are you going to ask her? Where are you going to do it? What if she says no?”

  I pull back from the hug and see his entire face fall, and I laugh. “I’m teasing. She’ll say yes. She’s insane about you. Or just insane. Either way, she will say yes.”

  “I haven’t worked out the details yet. I just wanted to do this first,” Eli explains. He starts to look nervous again, like he did when I answered the door. “I think she’ll say yes, but I know there’s a lot going on right now, and she might want to hold off. You know, until…I know it’s going to be hard to plan what’s supposed to be a happy thing when something so unhappy is happening.”

  “Don’t wait,” I say immediately, my voice thick with conviction. “Do it as soon as you can. It will give us a reason to celebrate again. It’ll give my parents hope, and most importantly it will give Dixie happiness, which is something that’s going to be hard to come by.”

  “You’re right.” His green eyes lock with mine. “Now take your own advice, dumbass.”

  He turns and head to the door but pauses as he opens it. “Please don’t tell her any of this. I want it to be a complete surprise.”

  “Stop calling me dumbass then,” I counter jokingly, but I feel like a lightbulb is turning on inside me and I won’t be able to turn it off. “Win your game tonight.”

  He nods. “You’re not coming?”

  “Working,” I reply, and he turns his big frame, starting to disappear through the front door. “Eli! What time do coaches have to be at the rink for a game?”

  He starts to smile. “Griffin usually heads over about an hour before.”

  He leaves, and I run to my room to get dressed in something presentable. If I’m going to give my heart to someone who might have no choice but to crush it, I’m at least going to look good while I do it.

  24

  Griffin

  I need to get my head into hockey. I need to focus. But I can’t stop thinking about Charlie. She stayed over last night, and we had a good time. We watched a movie. I have become an expert in cartoon movies, and I didn’t think she’d seen Brave yet, but I thought she might like it.

  She didn’t just like it, she adored it. Her eyes were like saucers the entire movie, and she squealed with delight and cackled with laughter, and it made my heart feel so much better than it has. I asked her what she loved about the movie.

  “Merida has hair like me,” she said with a ear-to-ear grin. “And she likes tough stuff like I do, not boring stuff. Dad, I wanna bow and arrow.”

  I’d guessed that was coming. “How about I talk to your mom and find you some archery classes. Nobody’s getting arrows and bows without training.”

  “That would be so cool!” She clapped her hands and then bounced on the couch as if a thought had just exploded inside her. “Oh! And I love that she has a horse!”

  The minute she says it I think of Sadie. Her love of horses. The amazing time we had. How much I miss her. I regret not getting a copy of that picture of us she took. God, she looked so beautiful that evening. Did I tell her that? God, I miss her.

  “Daddy?” Charlie prompted because I had zoned out. “I know you can’t get me a horse. It can’t live on a boat. But I’d be okay with a dog that looks like a horse.”

  I grinned at her. “Of course you would.”

  And then I tickled her to change the subject.

  But ever since that moment, I haven’t been able to shake two strong feelings: how much I miss Sadie and how much I love Charlie—and how cruel it feels that the second thing is causing the first thing. I’ll never leave my daughter. It’s a simple, undeniable truth that if she moves to New York, I’m moving too. But I know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I’m leaving behind the best relationship I’ll never have.

  A knock at the door startles me as I’m pulling my suit out of the closet to get ready for tonight’s game. I walk over to the glass French doors that open to the balcony and look out. I can’t see anyone, so I open the doors and step out. I am leery about just going down and opening the door, worried it’s another fucking private detective or some other bullshit. Right now I’m likely to snap at a Girl Scout selling cookies I’m so tense.

  I can’t see who it is, but what I do see is a giant, inflatable, metallic unicorn balloon. My heart stutters in my chest. The only person who would bring me that is…

  “Sadie?” I call out tentatively.

  Suddenly she’s looking up at me. She looks un-fucking-believable in a little flowered summer dress, with her hair wavy and loose around her shoulders, and her lips are a perfect deep shade of red. She gives me a sheepish smile. “Can we talk?”

  “Of course.” I head back inside and downstairs as fast as I can without losing my towel. As soon as I open the door, I regret not taking a second to throw on real clothing. She looks even better up close, and I am already fighting not to get hard. She hands me the balloon.

  “I know. It’s stupid, but there was a balloon vendor we passed in the Presidio, and I made the Lyft driver stop and I ran back and got him,” she explains, almost tripping over her words. “I know it’s silly, but I’m silly. And weird. And wild.”

  “I know,” I reply, taking the balloon from her. “And it’s only half of what makes you amazing.”

  “But I’m actually kind of stupid too,” she confesses. “And very, very, very messed up right now. I mean…I’m a daddy’s girl. We all are. I stupidly thought he would be around for decades. Because he deserved to see us grow up. We’re adults, but not really.”

  I smile at that, because I can relate. When Charlie was born I was amazed at how young and unprepared I felt. I sometimes still have moments where I feel like I’m not adult enough to babysit a kid, let alone have one of my own. I think about how I’ve called my parents in those moments and relied on them. How they were there for me during my divorce with kind words and support. “I don’t think we’re ever adult enough to lose a parent.”

  “True, and I also think, now, that I’m also never going to be whole enough to ensure I can handle heartbreak,” she announces, and my heart sinks like a stone. I have no idea why she is here, but it was beginning to feel like she wanted to be together, but now…”Pushing away someone you’re falling in love with because of something that might not happen is stupid. I don’t want to be stupid anymore.”

  “You’re falling in love with me?” I whisper roughly as I let the balloon go. Her sky-blue eyes follow it as it rises to the ceiling before she lets them land back on my face.

  “You’re
a unicorn. It’s impossible not to,” she replies softly, nervousness making her voice tremble a little bit. “Which is terrifying, for the record.”

  “It’s okay, I’ve got you,” I reply and cup the side of her face. “I’ll fall with you.”

  She looks like she might cry, but she doesn’t. Instead she jumps me. Literally. Before I can blink she’s got her arms wrapped around my neck, her legs wrapped around my waist, and her lips on mine. I stumble but kiss her back with everything in me. This incredible, wild, uncontrollable warrior of a woman is giving herself to me, and I am not going to stop her.

  The kiss is exactly what I didn’t know I needed. Just like Sadie herself. I walk us toward the living room. My towel is slipping lower and lower and I don’t care. I carry her up the staircase and into my bedroom.

  “Stop me if you want to,” I murmur against the column of her throat. She responds by reaching down and curling her fingers into my towel at my hip and yanking it off. She drops it somewhere on the stairs.

  “I don’t want you to stop,” she says after I lie her down on the bed and slide my hands up her thighs, moving her dress up, revealing inches and inches of glorious skin. But I hesitate. Nothing has changed. She feels my touch falter, and she props herself up on her elbows. “I want this—you—now. Even if I can’t have you later. My dad made me realize if it’s now or never, I should take now.”

  “Remind me to thank your dad.”

  Her hands run down my back to my ass, and she grabs me—hard. “Let’s stop talking about my dad.”

  I am more than willing to oblige.

  Her clothes come off, the condom goes on, and we make love at a bruising pace, both of us starving for each other’s touch, hungry for the satisfaction we seem to be perfect at giving each other. She comes first, clawing at my back and moaning sweet obscenities in my ear. Her dirty mouth and the pulse of her pussy send me off into my own oblivion.

 

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