Page 43 of Not You Again
But then again, not everyone was lucky enough to have Bruce Hart as their dad. A tear trailed its way down her cheek at the thought of him, and Carly wiped it away with the back of her hand.
Adam watched as she stood up. “Something wrong?”
“I just need a little fresh air.”
But she could tell by the way he cocked his head that he saw through her. And while she normally hid this topic under lock and key, maybe it was time to tell someone what happened.
“The other loop, you asked about my dad. I was thinkingabout him just now.” Carly swallowed the lump in her throat. “He was the person I called first. If something bad or good happened, he was the person I wanted to talk to. We talked every day, actually. I’d call in the morning, when he was up, and I was finishing my coffee. We’d talk about mundane things—the weather, my latest script, plans for the weekend, upcoming movies. It was like this anchor that made me feel loved and important. And now...”
Her throat dried up. Out of everything, the fact that she didn’t get to hear his voice was the hardest to accept. Not getting to hug him was a close second. But who was going to be her daily call? Who would keep her rooted? Burbank was what she called home, but it really wasn’t. Her dad was home. His voice was her comfort. And now she’d have to figure out how to exist without him.
“You know,” Adam said, “just because your dad isn’t here, doesn’t mean he isn’t listening.”
That was the thing about Adam—he didn’t always talk a lot, but when he did it was meaningful.
“I’m sorry he passed,” he added.
Carly bit the inside of her cheek. She was sorry he’d had a fatal heart attack, too. “It’s the last conversation I had with him that haunts me,” she said. “The way I spoke to him. The things I said... I wonder if he’ll ever forgive me for those.”
She closed her eyes. What would Adam think if he knew what a piece of shit she’d been to her dad? Would he still want her help? Adam’s steady hand reached for hers, and he squeezed her for reassurance. Which is when she started to tell him the truth of what happened.
Carly remembered her phone ringing in her purse, and a feeling of dread at the incoming FaceTime call from Bruce.
“Carly girl!” Bruce’s voice had boomed through the phone.
She missed him, but she was also pissed off. Beyond pissed, really. Because that day was the year anniversary of Bruce’s leaving Burbank for Julian. She’d thought for sure he would’ve come back, but he was stillthere.And her most effective way of showing that she didn’t approve of that decision was by icing him out. So she fought to keep her expression neutral as she replied with a casual, “Hey, Dad.”
“It’s so good to see you. I miss you, kiddo.” The vulnerability in his voice was clear. Which was why it was almost impossible not to break stoic obstinance as his eyes crinkled at the corners, waiting for her to say the sentiments back.
And she did miss him. Seeing his face was like slipping under a warm and cozy blanket. But she wasn’t ready to forgive him for leaving her behind. “Why don’t you come home, then?” she asked.
If he loved her so much, then why had he moved two hours away to start a new life? Why hadn’t he come to visit her in the year he’d been gone? And what about the life he’d had in Burbank with Carly was so bad? He was supposed to stay in her childhood home and grow old there. They were a small and mighty family of two. Carly already lost her mom, and now it felt like her dad had willingly abandoned her as well.
“Have you thought about taking time off for a visit?” he volleyed back.
Carly’s jaw twitched. Her dad wanted her to come to Julian. He’d said the town was gorgeous—the trip would inspire her to write something—and didn’t she want to see the movie theater?
When she pursed her lips to deliver the blow, Carly felt a pang of guilt. But also? Maybe this would be the thing to get him to move back. Maybe he’d finally understand that Carlydidn’t want to be part of his new life; she wanted their old life back. “I don’t want to come.”
“Oh,” Bruce said. “I thought we could watch our favorites on the big screen. Don’t you want to—”
Carly cut him off. “We can watch movies from Burbank that were made here.”
“Right,” he said.
“I have to go.”
“Carly.”
“What?” Her tone was sharp and annoyed. She wasn’t sure how she’d wanted the conversation to end. How was he supposed to respond to what she’d said? Had she really just expected him to agree to move home?
“Just think about it, okay? I love you.”
She’d ended the call without saying goodbye and practically thrown the phone. She’d held her tears back until then, wanting to play the role of disappointed daughter until the very end. Andthatwas the last time she’d spoken to her dad.
Adam’s palm rubbed slow circles between Carly’s shoulder blades as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. She hadn’t told anyone else about that final conversation with Bruce. She’d been too ashamed to ever admit how ridiculously stubborn she’d been.
“Something I want you to know is that relationships aren’t defined by the last thing you told someone. Time is both long and short, as evidenced by this loop. And your dad would one hundred percent not dwell on that conversation. He’d be thinking about the moments that defined his life—having you, for example.”
