Page 82 of At First Smile
“I know that… You’re scrappy.”
The ghost of a smile softens her features. “So are you. I just wish you’d use some of your scrappiness for yourself.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Gillian and you. You’re not the man he paints you to be, and it hurts to see you just accept his very wrong words about you.”
“I…”
In that moment, every argument with Gillian riots through me. Raised voices. Growled insults. Balled up fists. As angry asI get with Gillian, I’ve never stood up for myself. Not really. It’s just different versions of what took place today. I can demand apologies for others but not for myself.
She steps into my chest, tipping her head up. “You’re always ready to protect everyone else, why not yourself? You didn’t say anything to him until he hurt JoJo or made a snide comment about me. Why do you allow Gillian to treat you like that?”
I close my eyes. “Because to him, no matter what I say or do, I’ll always be the reason our father died.”
None of this would be happening, if it wasn’t for you.Gillian’s words hiss inside me. It’s been twenty-three years since he’d uttered those words, his already stern face glaring at me from the top of the stairs.
“He shouldn’t have been out there, but he went… For you and now he’s gone.” He spins and charges into the bedroom we now have to share, slamming the door.
“He didn’t mean that,” Finn sighs, looking between the now-shut bedroom door and me.
“Yes, he did.” I turn and walk away.
“Baby, what does that mean?” Pen’s warm palm rests on my cheek, pulling me back to her and away from the past.
My fingers curl around her biceps as if at any moment she’ll slip through my fingers. “My dad fell through the ice of the pond in the back of the house we lived in before…”
Before my mam cried for weeks. Before our entire life as we knew it was ripped away. Before everything changed…
Her eyes widen. “The pond where he taught you to play hockey?”
“It was mid-January. The temperature had been below freezing for weeks. We’d not been on the pond yet that season. Dad was testing it to make sure it was safe for us to use. He always said to never go out alone.” Tears prick, but I blink to clear them. “We were at the market with mam, when we camehome, I saw a new net on the pond but no dad. I didn’t think anything of it. It got dark, but he wasn’t home. Mam got worried and called my dad’s friend, Florence, who was a police officer. It wasn’t like dad to just disappear. They found him the next day. He must have fallen through and couldn’t get himself out. He was out there getting the pond ready for me.”
“Oh, baby I’m so sorry.” She folds her arms around me and rests her face on my chest.
The feel of her body against mine is a balm for my stuttering heartbeat.
“I know you say Gillian blames you, but do you blame you?” She tips her head up, her honey eyes are glassy with worry.
I swipe my finger across her jawline. “What happened was an accident. My dad chose to be out there alone, to not heed his own warning, but I still feel guilty that the only reason he was out there was to do something for me… That doing something for me took him away from my mam and brothers.”
“And from you.”
I nod.
She cups my face. “His choices aren’t your responsibility, even if he was doing something for you. He chose to be out there alone. Whether he was out there to set up your hockey net or to catch a fish for the future chef Gillian to cook, he made the decision, not anyone else.”
“I know.”
“Do you?” She holds tight, not allowing my gaze to turn from her. Her warm eyes glitter with determination. “Because if you did, if you truly understood that, you wouldn’t continue to let your brother make you pay for someone else’s decision…make you feel like a great disappointment because he doesn’t want to deal with who he’s really angry with.”
If I do anything but nod, the tears and emotions I hold back will flood forward.
“You’re both angry with your father and taking it out on each other because he’s not here to get loud with… To ask for answers. To push. To curse at. So, instead you take it out on each other and worse, on yourselves.”
“I’m not angry with my father.” I step back.
“Aren’t you?”
