Page 66 of Terms Of Un-Endearment
It's hours before I can sneak away to the bathroom and message Archie.
I’m sorry for getting mad this morning over nothing and for the sushi in your room. Mostly I’m sorry I can’t do lunch today. Can we talk tonight?
I push send, imagining Archie’s face when he discovered—if he has—the sushi in his room after trying to do something nice for me. He won’t look the way he did this morning when I was on the bus and he was on the sidewalk, two lanes of cars between us. Even at that distance, I could tell from his concerned stance he was watching me, making sure I was okay.
That’s what Archie does. He takes care of people. Even when he has every reason not to.
I hope after today I’m still one of those people he wants to take care of.
Chapter 22
Archie
The first thing I notice when I walk into the beach house is the slightly fishy smell that I noticed this morning is stronger. I should’ve taken the sushi sack of garbage out first. But when I walk into the kitchen, the sack is gone. Piper must’ve taken them out, which makes me feel worse about not doing it myself.
I notice a few other things I could have done, too. Such as cleaning off the kitchen counters and wiping up the water spots on the floor. Last night, I thought I’d done a good job, but when I think about how the kitchen looks after the housekeeper’s been here or Piper’s cleaned, I reckon I could’ve done better. Ishouldhave done better.
After retrieving my mobile from the table, I shoot Dex a text asking him to ask Stella for Piper’s number. Frankie likely has it, but she’s in the air, and I don’t want to wait for her to land.
Then I get to work cleaning up what I should’ve finished last night. I’m not sure if the job itself or thinking about Piper makes me work up a sweat, but by the time I finish, I need a shower. The kitchen’s scrubbed up alright, and I’m stoked about it.
That feeling is short-lived as my mobile shoutsShe Who Shall Not Be Ignoredand Sybil’s name flashes on the screen. Mypulse skips. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since I spoke to Dad. If Sybil’s ringing, he isn’t wasting any time putting his plan into motion.
Am I going to roll over and let him? Am I going to let money rule my decisions the way it does Dad’s? Before I’ve made up my mind, I answer the call.
“Hello, Sybil.” I walk barefoot to the patio. The sun is out, and the rough cement is warm under my feet, but I’m cooler out here than inside.
“Hello Archibald. Mr. Forsythe asked me to call you with the travel details for your return home.”
“I haven’t confirmed that I’m coming back. I’d prefer to chat with him first.” I sit in a deep deck chair. A light breeze sends sand dancing across the patio.
“He’s not available right now, but I can deliver any message you need to get to him.” Her business voice grates me like sharp reef rock.
I’m not sure what I’d say to Dad right now if he were the one who’d called, or even what message to leave. I only know that my fighthasto be with him. Not Sybil. Not Cynthia. And, for sure, not Piper.
I let out a long breath. “My only message is that I’m taking the full two weeks he promised and he can ring me. Not you. Him. My father.”
Sybil is quiet on the other end. I’ve crossed a line.
I don’t care anymore.
In the looming silence, anger bubbles up like an unexpected belch. “I’m not leaving Monday.”
“Archie,” Sybil says with something close to warmth. “I need to warn you against that.”
I muster up a bit of hope. “When Dad sees my final proposal, he’ll?—”
“—No, he won’t.” The certainty in her voice squelches the last of my hope with a finality that’s equal parts devastating and freeing.
I blink. Clouds part. In the bright sunlight, everything becomes clear and the pieces and thoughts that have been circling come together. I take a deep breath, finally accepting the reality that’s been in front of me all along. Dad made up his mind the moment I asked for the chance to prove myself to him.
“Mr. Forsythe has a job and a house waiting here for you.” Sybil’s gentleness doesn’t soothe me, but it does remind me that communicating through her is what Dad wants so he can avoid a battle, then tell himself he’s won a war.
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you, Sybil.” I hang up and stare at my phone.
I have two choices: give up my life here and go back to Aus on Monday before Dad follows through on his threats of cutting me off. Or stay and give up my relationship with Dad while also likely starting a legal battle that will bury me when he sues for the house.
Neither is what I want, but the second would end up hurting Piper, too.
