Page 116 of Fade into You
“Oh, Daniel.” I laugh through his name, shaking his hand off me. “Don’t try to act like you’re my father all of a sudden.”
“Elizabeth!” Mom shouts. “How dare you talk to him like that?”
“It’s okay,” Daniel says.
“No, it’s not!” she yells at Daniel, then to me: “Apologize right now.”
“Why?” I ask her. “It’s true. Do I call himDad? Did Charlie ever call himDad?”
Mom lets out this exaggerated breath and glances back at the younger kids, who are staring up at us. “Daniel, can you…?” She gestures and he gets it.
“Come on, guys. Bailey, Liv. Help me get the twins—we’re gonna give them some space.” Liv actually stands up and helps for once. Mom waits to say anything until they’re gone.
“What’s this really all about?” she finally asks, crossing her arms as she stands opposite me in front of the door.
“Does it need to be about something else?”
“Did Charlie put you up to this?” she asks. “Because I already told him to drop it.”
Charlie didn’t say anything about having any kind of conversation with our mom. But good for him. “Well,I’mnot droppingit. We have a father out there somewhere, and it’s not fair for you to act like he doesn’t exist.”
“Daniel is your father!”
“But he’s not. He’s our stepfather. And you’re Liv’s stepmother. You’re not her mother—she has one already—and I don’t see anyone forcingherto pretend differently! I want to know where he is.”
“He left us, Bird!”
“He leftyou, maybe, but not me. Not Charlie. I was young, but I remember him and he loved us. He wouldn’t have wanted to never see us again. I want to know where he is,” I repeat, more firmly. “Now.”
She stands so still she’s almost vibrating. “You’re being naive.”
“And you’re being selfish!”
Daniel emerges from the other room now. He walks up to Mom, whose jaw is clenched so hard I think her teeth might crack, arms crossed so tight, and places his hands on her shoulders. “Just tell her, honey.”
So, even Daniel knows more about my own father than I do.
“Tell me what?”
She shakes her head, looks back at Daniel, uncrosses her arms, and goes over to the computer desk. After pulling a small silver key out of a piece of Charlie’s childhood pottery, she opens the one locked file cabinet drawer and reveals a stack of mail. Handfuls of envelopes. It looks like Dad’s handwriting.She wouldn’t.She thumbs through them and selects one, holding it out to me.
“I don’t have a current phone number, but here. You can write to him.” She’s handing me the cream-colored envelope, pristineand crisp, as if it was just delivered. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I take it from her. As I turn it over, I see there’s a stamped postmark in the top right corner that saysBOSTONand 1994. The envelope has my name on it. His address in Boston is in the top left corner. I run my finger under the seal and tear the envelope open, its contents not easily dislodging after five years. It’s a card. A watercolor of a small bird on the front. Finch, I think. Inside, a ten-dollar bill slides out into my hands, revealing careful cursive handwriting that reads:Happy 12th birthday, my Birdie! This card reminded me of you. I hope you’re spreading your wings. Love always, Dad.
I look up at my mom, at the stack of mail still in her hand. I can make out Charlie’s name on one of the envelopes.
“Are those all from him?”
She doesn’t need to answer.
“I can’t believe you,” is all I can say.
“Birdie,” Daniel begins, “you don’t understand.”
“No, Idon’tunderstand!”
“You’re old enough to know.” She takes a giant breath and looks at Daniel for support. “Your father left us for another man.”
