Page 11 of Four Simple Rules
Mistake number one.
“Blake?”
My muscles tense at the sound of my father’s deep voice. Peeling my eyes open, I reel back, staring at the screen. If I had looked before answering, I would have gotten the heads up and probably not have answered.
“Uh, hey-hey, Dad,” I say, clearing my throat. “What’s up?”
God, this is weird. He hasn’t bothered to call or text in weeks. It’s usually emails asking about my life once or twice a month. I’m surprised he remembers I exist. He sure didn't care back then.
“I just wanted to say how happy I am that you chatted with Grace last night. I, um, know we don’t have the best track record, but I’m so glad you’re coming home.”
My stomach drops. “Home?” I choke out. “Grace?” I wheeze.
Instantly, I put his confused butt on speaker and scroll through my messages from last night. Drunk Blake shouldn’t scroll social media and answer messages. Drunk Blake is bad! I'm going to smack her with a newspaper and lock her away. Forever!
“Yeah,” he draws out, “Grace. My wife.”
I choke again, staring at the messages on my social media messenger. I talked to Grace Rutherford in my wine and heartbreak-induced sob fest. Or…not Rutherford…I...
“You married Grace Rutherford?” I squeak, sitting in bed, ignoring the splintering pain hacking away at my skull. “You…”
“I thought you two talked it out last night. And were okay with this? I knew you and Jesse were pretty tight as kids…” he rambles on, but my brain is stuck on the facts.
My father married my ex-best friend’s mother. Jesse freaking Rutherford is my stepbrother. Our parents are married. Boinking—ew. I don’t know where that thought was going. Whatever I’m thinking isn’t healthy one bit. I blame it on the pain in my brain.
“It means a lot to me you’re coming home for the wedding reception, Blake. We would have had a normal wedding, but we figured a courthouse one was for the best. I know…” He sucks in a breath, relaying the emotions he’s fighting against through the phone. "I wasn’t the best father after your mom and Gavin died. Even now. I know that now, Pumpkin. I’m just so sorry I lost out on so much time with you before you moved away. I’d love it if you came here and celebrated with us. I really miss you." There’s something so vulnerable and broken hiding in his voice. Maybe after all these years, he’s finally realized what he lost.
I blink rapidly, staring at the pictures decorating my walls. His words pierce through my bones and fracture my heart. I learned as a thirteen-year-old how to take care of myself. My father was too consumed with grief to care that he still had a living child. I might as well have been dead, too. He walked the halls of our happy home without an ounce of light in his eyes. Dead. Gone. Just like the other two we buried.
“I… I’ll think about it, Dad. I’m happy for you…” I trail off.
I am thrilled for him.Everyone deserves happiness. Me. Him. Grace. Heck, even Jesse’s red-flagged derriere. But especially him. If Grace can bring back the man I once knew as a kid who snuck me out in the middle of the night to capture the fireflies floating in the air for pictures, instead of the man who looked through me, then I'm ecstatic for them. She deserves happiness, too. I'm just so confused how they found it together. Last I knew, she was married to Jesse's father. Maybe she finally got out?
My eyes squeeze shut. I’m unsure if it’s from the headache hacking away at my last brain cells or the memory pouring through my mind. I’ve locked away the past tighter than anything, and now, they seem to be finding their way out and haunting me.
“Pumpkin, wake up,” my father’s deep voice pulls me from my dreams when I blink up at him with furrowed brows. “Come on! You have to see all the fireflies floating near the woods. They’re lighting up the world like little stars.” I blink again, peeking over at Gavin, still sleeping soundly in his bed. “Just you and me,” he murmurs, holding out his hands.
“Okay,” I say, letting a smile fall across my lips.
That night my father and I danced beneath the stars above, catching fireflies and letting them go. We sang. We hugged. We laughed until our bellies hurt. Until the moon rose high in the sky and the tiny dots of yellow lights began to disappear, he tucked me back into bed with a simple kiss.
“We’d love to have you here. Your room is still the same. You wouldn’t have to worry about a hotel. I…miss you, Blakey.” My nickname slips out in desperation, tinged with remorse.
Crap! I'd be cold-hearted not to respond or go. I mean, everyone deserves a second chance, right? He was going through a lot back then. But so was I.
Ugh. My head hurts more.
“I… Let me talk to my supervisor. I should be able to secure some time off.” I’m going to kick myself in the keister for this later. I’m breaking the promise I made to myself ten years ago.
Never return to Brighton. It only holds negative energy. But yet, here I am contemplating it again. Why do I do this to myself?
“Oh, Blake.” His voice breaks into emotions, tumbling my stomach. “Thank you.”
Everything settles in my chest after hanging up the phone and getting coffee into my system.
I'll go and celebrate their newfound happy union. For my father. For his new wife. And then, I'll come home and continue my life here.
I’m going home. To Brighton. To the place that molded me and ran me out. I might see him. Jesse. The boy who broke my heart.
