Desperate Chances

My father stormed out into the foyer where I stood with my purse and car keys in hand. He glared down at me and I almost quivered under his cold, dark eyes. “You’ve upset your mother. That is unacceptable. You need to go back in there this instant and apologize.”


I shook my head. “I can’t, Dad. I can’t stay here and pretend that I agree with your ideas for my life. I won’t sleep in that bedroom and I won’t let either of you dictate my life. I love you, but that doesn’t mean you can control what I do. I’m an adult. I have been for a while now, whether you choose to believe that or not.”

My dad’s face softened for just a moment and what he said next shocked me.

“Seeing you in that hospital bed frightened us so badly. I don’t think you will ever understand, until you have children of your own, what it feels like to stand by and not be able to do anything while your child is hurting. You want to swoop in and take care of everything.” My dad rubbed his hand through his graying hair. He looked tired. And old. I hadn’t realized that until then how much my father had aged.

“We just want you to be happy,” he finished, his mouth setting into a firm line again. “But you are not allowed to come into our house and disrespect us like that. It won’t be tolerated.”

My shoulders sagged in shame. “I’m sorry, Dad.” And I was. I didn’t want to hurt either of them, but it also felt really good to stand up for myself.

“Go say goodbye to your mother if you don’t want to stay for dinner. She’ll be mess otherwise. Then if you want to leave, I’ll drive you home. The roads are a mess and I won’t have you risking your life to make a point,” Dad said gruffly.

I nodded. “Okay.”

I followed him back into the dining room where my mother was still sitting, her back straight as a board.

“Mom, I’m sorry if I upset you.” She didn’t acknowledge me. She continued to pick at her casserole as though I weren’t there.

I walked around the table and kissed her cheek. Not an air kiss. A real kiss. “I love you, Mom. I really do,” I said softly, my hand on her shoulder.

She reached up and put her hand on top of mine briefly before continuing to eat her dinner. “Your father will drive you home. I don’t want to worry about you on those roads in this weather.”

“Okay, Mom. Thank you.”

And that was it.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. I had learned to celebrate the small successes. They were often the most important ones.



“My dad brought me back to the apartment. The roads are getting really bad out there. I’m sorry that I couldn’t make it over to your place,” I told Vivian once I had gotten home.

Dad had said very little to me on the drive back to my apartment. But when he pulled up out front, he reached over and squeezed my hand. “Come over next week for dinner, okay?”

I nodded. “Sure, Dad, I’d like that.”

I got out of his car and watched him drive slowly away, the snow falling heavily from the sky.

“That’s okay. Cole hasn’t even gotten back from Garrett’s yet. The must be still on their call with the label. I don’t know when they’ll be finished. Maysie was going to come over, but with the snow, she’s decided to stay home too. So it’s just me and a bag of Cheetos that are looking way too tempting,” Vivian said.

“Oh man, I almost forgot about the call. But I thought it was supposed to be this afternoon.” I opened the microwave and put in a packet of popcorn. I was hungry, especially since I hadn’t eaten dinner. Popcorn and soda would have to do.

“It was pushed back to five o’clock. The big wigs had another meeting that ran over. The guys really just want the whole thing done with already. It’s been dragging on long enough. Cole was on the phone with Neal earlier today. They were discussing some possible solo gigs,” Vivian revealed.

“Solo gigs? Really?” Cole going solo had been the source of a lot of hostility last year when the band was just starting to get big. I was surprised that he’d even consider it.

“Well, things are different this time, aren’t they? With Maysie being pregnant—”

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