Chapter 40 | Zoey

Chapter 40

Zoey

T here’s no time to warn Dad about the shit show going on in Liz’s apartment. He literally walks into arguments and then stunned silence, which sucks because I can tell he’s nervous. I slip my hand into his and squeeze twice, our patented silent support communication. Cecilia’s gaze turns toward us, and it’s like spikes digging into me. Liz misjudged tonight’s plan.

“What is he doing here?” Cecilia exclaims, glaring at Liz.

“Cecilia,” Liz chastises. “Hi, Dad.”

“Hi, Lizzie, Anna.”

I hate this so much. How was I foolish enough to believe that this summer changed anything? It doesn’t matter how much progress Liz and I made. This is our reality. It will always be us versus them. And I am the founding them . Dad doesn’t deserve this. He destroyed his life to save mine. Why can’t anyone see that? If he hadn’t owned up to me, taken care of me, where would I have gone? My mom wasn’t staying no matter what Dad said. I squeeze his hand again. Whatever happens next, we’re in this together.

Liz walks over to us, her mouth set in a thin line. She takes the bag of pastries out of Dad’s hand and gives him a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for these, Dad. Go sit.”

No sooner has he taken a seat than Cecilia stands and chases after Liz. My hands twitch in my lap, and my head throbs. What gives Cecilia the right to be such a total bitch all the time?

“Dad,” I say in a sad attempt to break the tension and clue him in to what’s been going down, “I hear you have a new girlfriend. One in a line of many I’ve never met.”

Dad blushes brighter than the day I first asked to buy tampons. “I see Anna’s been telling stories.”

There’s a teasing in his voice and in the look Anna gives back to him that I wish Liz could see. Cecilia’s too angry to appreciate it, but it might give Liz some much-needed perspective. Patrick and Anna Reid may have been divorced for nearly two decades, but they are still connected in some cosmic way.

I knew this in the smallest of ways. The yearly card Anna sent for my birthday. The gift from her under the Christmas tree. The infrequent-yet-significant outings that I desperately needed a woman for but was too shy and ashamed to ask Becca’s mom for help. Liz was in college and then graduate school, flitting in and out of Ardena, always with an air of drama around her. She tried—Liz always tried—but it never seemed to work out.

“Can I meet her?” I ask with a grin. “Before I go back to school?”

“Of course, dear.” His face relaxes, and his smile, though tentative, is real. “Robin would like that, I think. She knows all about you—about all of you—but especially you.”

The sound of pots clanging in the kitchen catches our attention. We can’t see Cecilia, only Liz, her shoulders hunched as she organizes the pastries.

“How could you do this?” Cecilia shrieks as if the apartment isn’t completely open concept and we can’t hear everything she says.

“I mean,” she continues, her voice getting quieter, “first you go to Dad—fucking Dad—when you leave Julian. And then you force Zoey on me this summer.”

I straighten at my name. What is she talking about? We barely interacted all summer.

“I didn’t—”

“Yes, you did. You literally gave me no choice.”

Tears come without warning. They won’t stop no matter how often I dab at my eyes or how hard I jam my fists into them. There’s the story of my life in black and white. I knew it. I knew Cecilia wasn’t warming up to me, but there was that moment in Wildwood and then on the phone... But I was wrong. So wrong.

“Zo, come on.” Dad stands and extends his hand. “Let’s go home.”

My heart cracks at the words. Home. Dad has been home since I was two years old, but this summer I started to form another one. I don’t want to leave it. Tears blind me as I take his hand. My breath hitches in my throat. I force myself to calm down and dab at my face again. The room comes back into focus, and Liz stands in front of us, tears glistening on her own cheeks. Cecilia stands at the door, her purse slung over her shoulder. She stares at Liz, her hand on the doorknob, waiting. Whose side will Liz take?

“Please don’t go,” Liz says, her eyes fastened on mine.

The front door slams, and Cecilia is gone. Liz stares at the door but doesn’t move. I’m rooted in place, Dad’s hand the only thing keeping me upright. Liz picked me.

Anna stands, her chair creaking as she pushes it back. She brushes her hand across mine as she passes and places a hand on Liz’s shoulder. She looks between the two of us and finally gives a nod to Dad. “I’ll talk to her. I’m sorry. We knew she wouldn’t take it well, but this... I’m so sorry, girls.”

And then she’s gone too. My heart aches from Cecilia’s words, but it’s also full. I want to throw my arms around Liz and cry until I have no tears left.

“What now?” I ask, my voice scratchy.

“Now,” Liz says with a weak smile, “we eat pastries.”