Teagan
I head back to Chicago on Sunday afternoon. I didn’t sleep well last night thanks to my nerves, but with two new jobs secured in Pearl Lake, the move makes sense. I need this. I need to take control of my life and start doing things for me instead of everyone else. This is the mental pep talk I give myself all the way home.
Danielle’s red Camry is parked beside my dad’s matching white one. I back the ancient truck into the driveway—Van gave me a lesson before I left this afternoon—and park in front of my dad’s car.
I don’t leave the truck right away. Instead I take a few calming breaths, not that it’s particularly effective, considering I stopped and picked up an energy drink on my way here and there are only one or two sips left.
I glance at my purse, debating whether I should go ahead and take one of my antianxiety pills before I go inside and talk to my dad. This move is kind of a major life decision. I give in and grab my purse, find the bottle in the bottom, and pop one of the tiny pills into my mouth. I give myself a few more minutes to collect myself before I get out of the truck.
When I open the front door, I immediately notice the significant change in decor. Much of the furniture we bought when we moved has been replaced with Danielle’s things. It’s like walking into a completely different house.
And it makes it that much easier for me to take this next step.
I find my dad and Danielle sitting on a pair of loungers in the backyard, drinking lemonade. I stand at the sliding glass door, watching them for a minute. They look happy and comfortable. And I want him to have that. Happiness and companionship. He deserves it after all these years of loneliness.
I know he blamed himself for my mother’s death for a long time, thinking that it was his fault she died on the operating table. That he was the one who pushed her into getting the nips and tucks. But it was her body and ultimately her decision. He loved her with his whole heart, and he never would have wanted her to do something she wasn’t comfortable with. At least that’s what I choose to believe, despite the fact that it hasn’t ever been a conversation we’ve had in all the years she’s been gone.
I’m also her spitting image.
I can’t imagine how hard it would be to look at your child and see the wife you lost reflected in her face every single day.
I open the sliding glass door. “Hey, Dad, hey, Danielle, the house looks great! Did you get moved in okay, then?”
“Oh! Hello, Teagan! I was hoping you’d like the changes.” Danielle grins nervously and looks to my dad for reassurance.
He squeezes her hand and gives her an it’ll-be-fine smile.
I make small talk with them, telling them all about the weekend, trying to figure out how exactly to approach the subject with Danielle sitting there. She makes it easy for me when she announces that she’s going to start dinner. And she absolves me of having to offer to help by offering me her chair and making us both a drink so we can have some dad-and-daughter time.
I decline the drink, and my dad holds up his half-full glass and tells her he’s fine too.
I wait until the sliding door is closed before I reach over and squeeze his hand. “I’m so glad you two found each other.”
“Me too, honey. And I’m so glad you and Danielle get along. I know it’s going to be a bit of an adjustment, but it means the world to me that you’re trying. I was worried when you decided to take the weekend away that you were upset.”
“I’m not upset at all, Dad. You’ve spent a lot of years alone, and more than anything I want to see you happy, and now you are.”
“I really am. Danielle is a good partner. Grounded. Caring. I think your mother would have liked her.”
My heart clenches. It makes me sad that he’s in his midfifties and still seeking atonement in the form of approval. I hope I’m not like that by the time I’m in my fifties. “Me too, Dad. She would want you to be happy, just like I do.”
“I think so too.” He gives me a smile that’s tinged with sadness.
“I need to talk to you about something.” And I need to do it before Danielle comes back.
“Is it about the new living room decor? I know it’s different, and you went to all the trouble to make it look perfect—”
“It’s not about the living room, Dad. And I honestly think it looks great.” I give his hand another squeeze. “I did some thinking over the weekend about what I want for my future and yours, and I’ve decided I’m going to quit my job at Smith Financial and move up to Pearl Lake for a while.”
The smile fades from his face. “I thought you liked Danielle.”
“I do, Dad. This isn’t about Danielle.” I sigh. “Well, it’s partly about Danielle, but not in the way you think. I’m twenty-six. I need to move out and learn how to be an independent, self-sufficient adult. And you and Danielle need time to grow as a couple, without another adult in the mix.”
“You don’t need to move to Pearl Lake to do that, though, or quit your job. We can find you an apartment in the city.”
This is the hard part. “I don’t want to live in the city, Dad. I want to live in Pearl Lake. Maybe not forever, but at least for a while. I need to figure out my own life. I took the job at Smith Financial because it meant I could be close to my family, and I felt like I needed to be there for you. You seemed so set on me working there, and I didn’t want to say no. But I’ll be honest: I don’t love the job. I don’t even know what I love, and I need some time to learn what that is.”
“I didn’t realize you felt that way. I wouldn’t have pushed you to stay on if I’d known.” He looks so crestfallen, and part of me wants to backtrack, but I know it’s pointless. The truth is already out, and I can’t take it back.
“I know that. And it’s my fault for not speaking up earlier. And to be honest, I didn’t know what I wanted to do. It’s not just about the job, though, it’s everything else too. As big of a city as Chicago is, there are memories attached to it that I can’t escape. Troy is one of those. A lot has changed recently, and I want a fresh start. Van said I can move into the apartment above the garage.”
“What will you do while you’re out there?” Dad asks.
I shrug. “I’ve already got two part-time jobs lined up, so it’s a good start. I want to try out different things, find out what I’m passionate about, and see if I can find something that’s the right fit for me. But obviously I’ll give my two weeks’ notice, and I can commute back and forth until you find a suitable replacement for me.”