Page 102 of The Do-Over

Next day, the hangover was enough to swear off wine for the rest of my natural life. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Regret was my constant companion. Every time I shut my eyes, I pictured my mother, drenched in appetizers. I couldn’t shake the look on her face just before she ran away, how broken and defeated she’d looked.

Mathias called in the morning to tell me he’d seen the photos already.

“What was I thinking?” I said. “She must hate me, and I don’t blame her. I think I hate me.”

Like the good friend he was, he wisely brought me tacos and let me cry.

The next few days were met with silence from everyone in my family until Daddy asked to meet me for coffee at the office. Unease took up space in my stomach as I opened the door to Mayfield. Miss Ruby peered at me over the top of her glasses. “Well, well. Are you gonna throw a donut at me?”

I scowled.

She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “Your father’s been sleeping in his office all week.”

“Really?”

“Really. He’s like a lost little puppy.” The phone rang, and she ignored it. “And, let me tell you, if he asks me if his shirt matches his tie one more time, I’m going to whack him with a newspaper and put him in the yard.”

“Is he that bad?”

“Worse.”

“I’ve made such a mess of everything,” I said, feeling a little lost myself.

“I’ve known your parents for a long time and the two of them need each other. I suspect they’ll figure that out sooner than later.”

The ringing stopped and then started again in the next breath. This time Miss Ruby snatched up the receiver and said, “We’re closed,” and slammed it down without ever taking her eyes off me.

“Plus, sometimes a fight can be the best thing for a relationship. Gets the truth out in the open.”

That had happened, although why the truth always had to feel so hard to hear was beyond me. “I guess.”

She returned to her computer screen, where she began the familiar hunt-peck-hunt-peck. As I shuffled down the hallway toward Dad’s office, I heard her say, “Though most people like to fight in private and usually not with meatballs.”

Dad’s office was even more crowded and messy than usual. Somehow, he’d managed to clear off the loveseat in the room and the remnants of his nights on it included a throw blanket and toss pillow. If that wasn’t proof enough of his sleeping arrangements, his appearance was. A few days’ worth of salt-and-pepper growth covered his normally clean-shaven jaw. His dress shirt was so wrinkled, it looked like he’d slept in it and hoped the tie would cover up the damage. It didn’t.

I braved circumventing his desk to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Hi.”

“Cupcake, thank you for coming.” He waved a hand toward the other side of his desk. “I got you coffee.”

“Oh, um, thanks.” I settled into a chair across from him and wrapped my hands around the cup. Although I had no idea why he’d brought me here, I did have something of my own to say. I’d spent hours over the last few days revisiting that scene in my parents’ backyard. For once, I hadn’t filtered my words or bit my tongue. For once, I’d spoken to my mother. But I’d gone about it the wrong way. I’d done it in public, and I’d done it with appetizer grenades. I had to accept the results that came with that and admit when I’d screwed up.

“I’m sorry about the anniversary party. I shouldn’t have said what I said, how I said it.” My voice broke.

“I’ll say one thing, it’s an event that’s not likely to be forgotten anytime soon. And you aren’t the only one who needs to apologize. Your mother and I had a discussion afterward and”—he took a deep breath and continued—“I’m sorry that I’ve been sitting back and letting your mother take care of everything. I haven’t been a part of our family the way I should. I’m just on the outside looking in.”

“Daddy, that’s not…” Shaking my head, I stopped before I said the easy thing. I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but if I was going to speak my mind, I needed to do it even when it was hard. “I know how important work is to you, but sometimes, it feels like it’s the only thing that matters to you.”

“That’s my fault,” he said, his voice gruff. “If it’s not too late, I’d like to change that.”

“It’s never too late, Daddy.” At least, I hoped it wasn’t. I gestured toward the couch. “Are you sleeping here?”

He nodded. “For now. I think it’s best. Your mother and I have a lot to work on, and I’m worried we’ll go right back to our old ways if we don’t make a change. I made an appointment with a marriage counselor. We’re going tonight.”

“You made the appointment?”

“I did. I think she’s mad about that too, but she’s going to go and we’re going to spend some time on us, our marriage. We only knew each other for five months before we got married. It was a wedding and baby five months after that. We never had that time for just each other. And I spent all my time working, while she spent all her time with you girls, and now that you’re both gone, I think your mother has been struggling for a while. I’ve been too much of an idiot to see it until now.”

“Is Mom okay? She won’t take my calls. I’m worried about her.” And I needed to apologize to her, too. I needed to apologize every day for the next thirty years. At least.