The Road Leads Back, page 7
She stared at him with hard eyes for a long moment before regret kicked in. She couldn’t blame him for trying to make things right. That’s what he did. He’d always done that. Whenever there was a confrontation in class or someone aiming paint tubes at her, for God’s sake, it was Harry who stepped in and negotiated peace.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, lowering her face. “I guess that’s one of those things I need to work through, huh?”
“Yeah. So is your resentment toward your parents.”
She held his gaze. “I know it was a long time ago, Harry, but finding out your parents sent me away to be rid of me instead of help me has churned up an awful lot of the hurt I felt back then. I came to terms with what my parents did, with how they didn’t want me. But your mother led me to believe she was taking care of me, and even if it was foolish, I believed her. I thought she wanted me, in her own way at least. Finding out she only wanted me to go away…it hurts.”
“Well, I want to take care of you now.” He gave her a crooked, uncertain smile. “Better late than never, right?”
She laughed softly. “Right. But I don’t need you now, Harry.”
“I think you do. I think you need me more than Phil and Jessica combined. Funny thing is, I need you, too.”
With that, he pushed himself up and, carrying the box of her letters, left her exhausted in the wake of their conversation.
Chapter Seven
Harry exhaled as he sat on the couch next to Phil. One emotionally exhausting conversation down, one more to go. It left him wondering if family was always this difficult, but then he realized he didn’t care. He had his family now—that was all that mattered. And if he were honest, he could think back on his teenage years and remember his father being the peacemaker between Harry and his mother.
“I didn’t mean to upset her,” Phil said before Harry could point out he had.
“You sure about that?”
Phil clicked off the television and looked at Harry. Harry couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes. Maybe it was offense that Harry would think he had upset Kara on purpose or shock that Harry would confront him.
“You’ve been making jabs about your childhood since I showed up, Phil.”
“Well, if you had to move from place to place your entire life, you’d be pretty tired of it, too. All I wanted was a normal life, Harry.”
“Yeah, you’ve said that a time or ten. When I went to my mom and told her that I had run into Kara, she looked like she was going to faint. Her hands started trembling, and she started trying to make excuses for what she’d done. I demanded she give me the letters your mother had written to me.” He opened the box and showed Phil all the envelopes inside. “For five years she wrote, bragging about all your accomplishments. Telling me how amazing you were and how she was waiting for me to bring you guys home. She wanted a house—not a big one, just enough for us to be a family. She said more than once that she was learning so many skills that she could use to make our lives easier. She asked if that would be enough of a contribution for her to be able to stay home with you.”
He pulled out the last letter he’d ever gotten from Kara. He knew which envelope it was because he’d read it so many times. “The last time she wrote, she sounded so broken. She said she had finally accepted that I wasn’t going to send for you guys. She finally realized that she was on her own. She told me she was going to give you an amazing life without me. And you know what, Phil? She did. How many kids got to see the things you did? Sure, you didn’t get to sit in a classroom day after day and you didn’t have your own room, but you rode horses and fished in the ocean. You picked grapes in Napa Valley and camped in the desert. Your mom has spent her life trying to make up for the fact that I wasn’t there, and you just keep giving her a hard time for it. She gave you the ocean and the valley and the desert. All I ever would have given you is a house and a curfew. Your mom deserves your respect—not only for what she gave you but for what she has given up for you—and you damn well better learn how to give that respect to her. I’m not going to lose either one of you again. You’re my family—you, Jessica, and Kara. I want her here. I want her happy. Just as much as I want that for you. So you’re going to back down. Do you understand?”
Phil stared at him for a long moment before grinning. “You sound like such a dad.”
Harry smiled. “I am your dad. But the truth is, I wasn’t there. She was. If for no other reason than that, you need to go easier on her. She could have left you. She could have sent you away like she was sent away. That alone makes her a better parent than either one of us ever had.”
Phil’s amused smile faded as he looked at the letters in the box.
“I don’t think she was as happy and free spirited as you always imagined,” Harry said, sharing the conclusion he’d come to from reading her letters. “I think she’s been running away from the hurt for so long, she didn’t even know she was doing it. All those adventures, all the different places, I think those were just new ways not to feel the rejection that her parents, my parents, and even I showed her.”
“You didn’t reject her, Harry.”
“She didn’t know that. She didn’t know that until two weeks ago, Phil. For almost thirty years, she thought I didn’t want you guys in my life. You can’t tell me that didn’t hurt her. I’d bet that knife twisted a little more each time you had some accomplishment she wanted to share with the family that had deserted her.”
Phil was quiet for a moment. “I was about thirteen when I really started blaming her. I was finally in a normal school around normal people. I was on the basketball team, and all these dads were showing up, cheering their kids on. Mom never missed a game, but it wasn’t the same. Nothing about me was ever the same as the other guys. I couldn’t put that off on you, so I put it on her.”
“It’s a lot easier to blame what you can see, huh?”
Phil nodded. “When Jess was born, I was barely older than Mom was when she had me. I was determined my kid was going to have the life I never did. But then my wife left soon after Jess was diagnosed with a heart condition, and I was suddenly a single parent. A kid with a kid and no idea what the hell I was doing. Mom was there, without fail, every time I needed her. All that time, I just…I thought she owed me.” He looked down at his hands and sighed. “She didn’t tell me the truth about how you disappeared until the morning after the gallery opening. I mean, I’d already decided that you didn’t want us, but I had always blamed her for that. Part of me thought that even if you had, you’d never find us because she moved us so much. When she told me that she’d run into my father and that he wanted to meet me, I felt like I’d finally won. She could run all she wanted, but you finally found me. Sounds stupid for a grown man to think like that, but it’s true.”
“Did you ever ask her how to find me?”
He shook his head. “No. I thought about it, especially after Jess was born, but the possibility of you shutting the door in my face was more frightening than not finding you at all. It was easier to blame her than to have to accept a reality in which maybe you really didn’t want me.”
“She never told you that I left her without a word?”
Phil shook his head. “She sat me down the morning after the gallery opening and told me how her parents kicked her out and yours sent her away. She said she’d written to you, thinking you were getting her letters, and how she finally gave up. Then she told me how you guys put the pieces together and that you never knew I existed. She also told me that she had kept sending address updates to you right up until Jess was born. All those years, I blamed her for not having a father, and she’d gone above and beyond to leave the door open for you.”
“So maybe you should tell her that you know it wasn’t her fault?”
He scoffed. “She knows—”
“No, she doesn’t,” Harry interjected. “She really doesn’t, Phil. She doesn’t think you have a very high opinion of her at all. And she’s very hurt about that.”
Phil exhaled loudly, and Harry handed him the box of letters.
“I want these back, but I think you should read them. Maybe your childhood wasn’t quite as bad as you remember.” Pushing himself up, Harry climbed the stairs and got ready for bed. Lying in the darkness, he stared at the ceiling, hoping the second day of having his family home would go much more smoothly.
Kara spent most of the night staring out the window. The stars, however, failed to bring their usual peace of mind. It was the first night she had spent in her hometown since Elaine had put her on a bus, and this night had gone just as badly. However, instead of fretting over being a homeless, unwed, pregnant teenager, Kara spent the night wondering if she should—could—face her parents. Wondering if she could find a way to forgive Elaine. Hoping that Phil would forgive her for not providing him a better childhood. Wondering what, exactly, Harry was expecting from her by incorporating her into his family. Worrying that Jessica wasn’t going to find her place in this new town.
And then her mind would go back to the beginning of her worries and start over again.
She felt none of the freedom that usually came with relocating. All her adult life, finding a new place to live meant the excitement of new friends, starting fresh, and learning new things. None of that could outshine the darkness of her past. Ever since she’d run into Harry at the opening, she’d been on an emotional roller coaster that she’d managed to avoid for the better part of thirty years. She’d held on to hope for so long that when she finally let it go, she felt free. Free from her parents, free from Harry, free from the fear of disappointing everyone—everyone except Phil.
Boy, had she messed that one up.
She thought for so long that he’d learn to enjoy their adventures. She’d finally caved and found them a place when he was a teenager, deciding it wasn’t fair to keep him out of public school when he so badly wanted it. That, however, seemed to have been her biggest mistake. That was when the slight crack between them had grown into a chasm she couldn’t cross until Jessica was born.
Sometimes it still amazed her that he called on her to help him after he’d been left with a baby. She figured she would be the last one he’d want helping him raise his child—he seemed to oppose every parenting decision she’d ever made. Then again, who would he call? He didn’t have anyone else.
Kara had no idea what time she finally started to drift off, but she hadn’t gotten nearly enough sleep when the creaking of the door caused her to jerk her eyes open. She smiled as Jess tiptoed into her room.
“You awake, Grandma?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Nope.”
“You are too!” She hopped onto the bed and leaned over Kara. “Daddy said to tell you to come eat.”
Kara creased her brow. “Daddy made breakfast?”
“It didn’t go well,” Jess said with a dramatic shake of her head.
Kara inhaled but didn’t smell anything cooking. “What did he make?”
“Cereal.”
“How could he go wrong with cereal?”
“Not with the cereal. With Harry’s blender. It got ugly.” She again gave her head a sad, theatrical shake.
Kara giggled and pulled her down for a hug. “I love you, Punk.”
“Love you, Grandma. Now get out of bed! I have big plans for my room. I’m pouring rice milk on your cereal. If you aren’t there in two minutes, you’ll have to eat mush!”
Rolling onto her side, Kara smiled as Jessica used the threat on her that Kara had issued so many times herself. School mornings were nothing but pushing Jessica to get ready. The child was not usually a morning person.
The thought brought back Kara’s worries about Jess fitting in at a new school. It wasn’t easy for the girl to keep up, even with a teaching assistant. She struggled, but she did it. Her grades might be mediocre, but she managed to hold her own. Kara was terrified that would change.
“Come on already, Grandma,” Jessica called from the hallway.
Kara crawled from under the covers and slipped into the half bath off the office. When she emerged, wrapped in a tattered old robe, she found Harry and Jessica at the table, happily eating their cereal. Phil stopped mopping the floor long enough to give her a half smile.
“I tried to make you a smoothie, but the blender is apparently smarter than I am.”
“It’s just tricky,” Harry offered.
“There is coffee, though,” Phil said.
Kara sat in front of a bowl as Phil put a cup of coffee in front of her. It wasn’t like her son to serve her. She looked at Harry and frowned with the realization that after leaving her side last night, he’d likely gone straight to their son.
He responded to her scowl with a wink and focused on his granddaughter. “So, tell me again, what is Grandma painting on your walls?”
Jessica rambled on through breakfast, and the list of creatures Kara would paint kept growing. After putting their dishes in the sink, Jessica dragged Harry upstairs to show him where each flower, fairy, and unicorn was going to go.
Kara opened the dishwasher to load their breakfast dishes. “She’s full of energy this morning.”
“She’s still excited about her new room. Do you remember when we were staying in Pacific City? We had that little guest house for the summer while you nannied for a doctor and his wife. What was their name?”
“Williams.”
“It was the first summer you thought I was old enough to go to the beach alone. That was cool.”
Kara waited. Where was the part where she did something wrong? It didn’t come. Just “that was cool.” After a moment, she nodded. “You learned to surf that summer. Or came close to it.”
“Right. I waxed all the boards at this little shop on the beach in exchange for some lessons.”
She smirked. “You mean you bartered.”
He’d always said that word like it was a bad thing. Pointing out that he’d done the same things without even realizing it gave Kara a twinge of pleasure.
He hesitated and then nodded. “Yes. I bartered.” He leaned on the counter, almost in the exact same place and position as Harry had been in the night before. Like father, like son. “Sometimes I felt like you were living your life the way you wanted without caring what it did to me. That pissed me off for a long time. I never stopped to think about how I got something out of it, too. I didn’t know how bad you were hurting because of your parents. You should have told me.”
“That was my burden, Phil. Not yours.”
“But maybe I would have been more understanding if I’d known you were running instead of wandering.”
She cocked a brow. “That sounds an awful lot like something Harry would say.”
Phil shrugged. “He’s a smart guy. Must be where I get it.”
Kara gasped and playfully swatted at him.
He laughed before putting his arm around her shoulder. “I know what your parents did was shitty. Real shitty. But of all the so-called fresh starts we’ve had, Mom, this is the one I want to work out. For all of us. I want to focus on making a great life for my daughter, and I need my parents to do that.” He grinned. “Did you hear that? I said ‘my parents.’”
She smiled. “I heard.”
“I’m sorry I’ve given you such a hard time. I didn’t take into consideration what you were going through. I love you, Mom, and I’m glad we did so much of what we did when I was a kid. Even if I was a brat sometimes.”
She hugged him. “I love you, too.”
He kissed her head and left her with the same unsettled feeling Harry had left her with the evening before.
At some point, whether she liked it or not, she, too, was going to have to face her resentment toward her parents.
The sound of Jessica giggling was like a magnet. Harry couldn’t resist the pull. He walked down the hall and peered into her bedroom. Kara was on the floor, legs crossed, while painting on the wall. Jessica was spinning, her sundress flaring out as she laughed.
He eased into the room and checked out the changes they’d made. He’d spent an evening painting the walls the color Jessica had picked out before arriving at his home, but Kara had added unicorns, flowers, fairies, and was putting the finishing touches on a flower near a rainbow.
“What do you think, Punk?” Kara asked.
Jess continued to spin until she fell onto the plush carpet. “I think I’m gonna puke.”
Kara laughed, and Harry’s smile widened. He imagined a hundred scenes like this had played out when Phil was a child.
Jess reached out and put her hand on Kara’s back and stroked as if she were petting a cat. Now that he was really watching—observing—he realized Jessica did that frequently but only with Kara. She clung to Phil’s hand, tugged to get his attention, but with Kara she tended to pet. That was the only word he could think to describe it.
“We gonna find me a school, Grandma?” she asked as she soothed her hand over Kara’s back.
“I guess we have to, huh?”
Jessica continued petting Kara. “Think there will be other kids like me there?”
“You mean funny, smart, adorable girls who have their grandma wrapped around their finger? I think there will be lots of kids like that.”
Harry chuckled softly when Jess sat up, swaying a bit, probably still dizzy from spinning so much.
“Kids with Down,” she said.
Kara put her brush in the jar of purple water and turned to face Jess. She reached down and stroked her hand over Jessica’s hair, and Harry made the connection. Jessica petted Kara because Kara petted Jessica. Their own secret way of communicating. He wondered if he’d ever make a bond so strong with his granddaughter.
“I don’t know,” Kara said. “Maybe.”
“Think they’ll be nice?”
“Yeah. I think they’ll be nice.”
Jessica sighed. “But there’s always one, you know.”
Kara chuckled. “You sound cynical like your dad.”
“I don’t know what that means, but it sounds serious.”
