Page 75 of Silent Count
“Dad!” I look over at him again, and he looks back at me like I’m the one being rude.
My mom clears her throat, reading the room pretty fast. “So, what does your aunt do?” she asks, trying to redirect the conversation.
Chelsea looks down at her lap for a minute, then back up at my mom. “She’s a pediatrician. One of the best in the state actually.”
“That’s amazin’. Good for her!” Mom claps her hands together.
The rest of the meal goes smoothly, but I catch my dad and Chelsea looking at each other more than once. Almost like they’re in a staredown. I’m not sure if I should be proud of my girl for not being intimidated by him or be angry with my dad for making things awkward for her.
After we eat, we go into a cocktail area with smaller tables. The girls sit down first, and my dad grabs my arm and leans into me.
“I need to speak with you upstairs for a moment.”
“Now?” I look down at his hand on my arm. Then I look up and see the look in his eye that tells me this isn’t up for debate.
I lean down and give Chelsea a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be right back. You’ll be okay?”
She nods and smiles tightly. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“This won’t take long.” I kiss her again.
My dad and I make it to the elevator before either of us speaks.
“Dad, what is going on? You’re acting strange and honestly rude, and I don’t appreciate it. Is this because you told me not to date her?”
He laughs, but it’s not because it’s funny. “Oh, son, you directly disobeyed me. And in a way, if the circumstances weredifferent, I’d be proud of you for it. But the fact of the matter is, they’re not.”
“What does that mean?”
The elevator doors open to the penthouse, and I follow him in.
“Bo, we don’t want to keep the girls waiting, so I’m just going to get to it. I’m officially being nominated for the United States Supreme Court. I got the call from the president yesterday. We knew this was a possibility, of course, but the time has come since Justice Blackburn passed away last month.”
“Oh my God … okay … congratulations! This is amazing news, Dad.” I throw my arms around him, expecting him to give the kind of hug you give when you’ve just achieved your life’s dream.
But his arms barely come up. He pats me on the back—brief, mechanical.
I pull back, brows furrowing. “What’s going on, Dad?” I take a small step back, hands open in front of me. “I still don’t understand what the problem is here.”
“Son, you know what the process is. They will dig into every part of my life, my career. All of it.”
“And there’s nothing to be worried about, so again, what’s the problem?”
“Chelsea. She’s the problem.”
“What?” I shake my head. “How is Chelsea the problem?”
“Bo, have you ever asked her about her parents?”
“Yes, her mom was killed, and then she and her sister went to live with her aunt.”
“You’re not answering my question. Have you ever asked her about her dad? Like, why didn’t they go live with him?”
“No, I’ve been letting her tell me things about her family at her own pace because I could sense there was more to the story and I didn’t want to push her.”
“Well, let me give you the full picture. And, Bo, let me just say again that if the circumstances were different, I would give you my full blessing, but they are what they are, and we have to deal with this the best way we can. She really is a lovely girl, and I really am sorry.”
“Dad, I’m losing my patience here. What do you think I don’t know?”
