Page 62 of Unbroken

“You might be surprised that your old man is getting handy these days. I actually changed the light bulb in the chapel.”

“Good for you,” I replied, mustering up a smile that felt more like a grimace. “Anyway, I wanted you to have these back. I’m in the middle of packing so …”

“Nonsense, you have time to come in for a cup of coffee with me. I just brewed up a pot. I’m working on this week’s sermon.”

I was about to say no when I realized that in a few short weeks, I’d be gone. The least I could do was have a quick cup of coffee with the old man—especially since I could comfort myself the whole time with the knowledge that I wouldn’t have to see him anymore after this if I didn’t want to. No more accidentally running into him in the diner or around town.

“Sure, okay,” I said, following him inside.

My father lived in a tiny house behind the church. It was as tidy as the man himself, with nothing out of place. It was far different from the house I’d grown up in, where my mom’s decorating had made everything feel comfortable and homey. As an adult, I couldn’t understand how two people so different could’ve ended up together. I got the sense that they sometimes wondered the same thing.

I sat down at the kitchen table while my father poured two cups of coffee.

“Excited to leave, son?”

“Yep, it’ll be good to get a fresh start.”

“What’s going to happen with that girl?” he asked, sitting down and pushing a mug in front of me.

“You mean Fiona?” I asked, emphasizing her name even though I knew my father remembered it.

“She’s the one who stood you up for prom, right?”

“Ancient history,” I said, still avoiding his original question.

“You know, your whole …scenario… with her feels off to me. She’s a bit too much, if you ask me. You two aren’t really seeing each other, are you? That relationship is some sort of ruse, right? It has to be.”

I was shocked that my father was tuned in to me enough to figure out that my relationship with Fiona had started out fake. I answered him with a shrug.

“Ah-ha, I thought so!” He said, grinning triumphantly. “You just didn’t seem like a real couple when you were putting on an act at that wedding. Samuel Carter doesn’t miss a trick. Well, that’s a relief because I never thought she was a good fit for you. Not back in high school and certainly not now.”

“And how would you know what’s good for me, Dad? You thought Charlotte was perfect, and she spent a solid year cheating on me.”

“Well, that’s different. That was?—”

“Yeah, itisdifferent,” I answered, feeling my temper rising. “Fiona is unlike anyone I’ve ever known. She’s a good woman. No, she’s not just good, she’samazing. And yeah, maybe our relationship started off as fake, but it’s grown to be something more real than anything I’ve ever known. Sure, Fiona has her quirks, but that’s exactly the stuff about her that I’ve grown to—” I started to say the word but stopped short, flustered by the rush of emotions I was experiencing asI defended her. “We’ve been rivals since we were kids, and we discovered almost too late that we do much better as partners. She’s been my biggest supporter practically since the day she got back to town. She works hard and doesn’t take shit from anyone. She loves her family. She’s been incredible with Patrick”—unlike you. “You’re wrong about Fiona. She’s not just a good fit for me—she’s theonlyfit for me.”

“Well, then we’re going to have to agree to disagree, because once you’re out of my good graces, you’re out for life. She doesn’t get another chance.”

I pushed the coffee cup away from me. “Jesus, Dad, you’re one to talk.”

“Don’t you dare?—”

“What, Dad? Take the Lord’s name in vain or point out that you are one of the biggest hypocrites in this whole damn town? Mom couldn’t wait to get away from you and you still won’t give her the one thing she wants from you: a divorce.”

“That isn’t true. Your mother is simply going through a phase. She’ll be back once she comes to her senses.”

I barked out a laugh. “Are you shitting me? It’s been eight years! Eight! She keeps the divorce papers clipped to the side of the fridge in hopes ofyoucoming toyoursenses and finally setting her free and giving her the clean slate she deserves. But you can’t see past your need to control everything and everyone around you. If you’d just open your eyes, you’d see how deeply unhappy your family is when we’re forced to be around you.”

He scoffed. “This is exactly why that girl shouldn’t be allowed around respectable folks. You never would have spoken to me like this if it weren’t for her.”

I stood up abruptly, nearly tipping over the chair. “You know what? We’re done here.”

I stormed out the door with my father chasing after me, stuttering half-hearted justifications. I jumped into my truck, gave a terse wave, and peeled out of the driveway.

My father was never able to look past appearances. He expected everything tolookright,soundright,appearright. But the man wouldn’t know what reallywasright—what was true and honest and from the heart—if it bit him on the ass.

I thought back to the early days of my relationship with Fiona, and how it had changed as we got older. What had started off as paste in her pigtails had grown into pranking in high school, and had matured into the solid relationship we had as adults, and it had a single connecting theme: friendship.

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