“I don’t know about that.” I pop one of the olives from my martini into my mouth and chew thoughtfully. “Have you talked to Dad recently?”
“Last week, I think? Why, did something happen? Please tell me he hasn’t gone back to spending money he doesn’t have.” I can see my brother doing math in his head already.
“Nothing like that. Everything is fine where finances are concerned. At least they were the last time I checked the credit card and bank statements.”
“Okay. That’s good. So what’s going on?”
“Danielle is moving in with Dad.” I figure I might as well spit it out.
“Wow. That’s good, I guess? I’d say it’s fast, but Dad’s been alone for nearly two decades, so maybe not. When is she moving in?”
“The moving truck showed up this morning, so today.”
That earns me a furrowed brow. “How long have you known she’s moving in?”
“Since the moving van showed up at nine thirty.”
“Didn’t Dad think to tell you before the truck showed up?” Van’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head. It makes my shock earlier this morning seem reasonable.
“Apparently, the truck wasn’t supposed to come until Saturday, but they switched the days or whatever, and Dad wasn’t expecting it until noon, so he thought he’d have time to tell me.”
“Still, that’s not a lot of lead time. You’d think he would have had a conversation with you about it well before it actually happened.”
“I should have expected it.” I tip back my glass and polish off what’s left of my drink. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together, and I always find a reason to be out when they’re having one of their date nights, which have been more and more often.”
“How often is often?”
“Three or four times a week.” I lean my head back and tip my glass upside down, trying to get the last few olive-flavored drops. “Oh hell. All the signs have been there. Dad always asking what my plans were before she’d come over. Me faking that I had some.”
“Aw, Teag. I’m sorry. I didn’t know it had gotten so uncomfortable.” Van puts his arm around my shoulder.
“It’s not bad, though. This is exactly what Dad should be doing, living his best life. I’m glad he has a girlfriend. I’m glad she’s moving in. It means he’s finally moving on, and he deserves that. And Danielle is nice. Grounded. I can see why they want to take this step.”
And now I understand better why Dad mentioned the possibility of going back to his last name a month or so ago. When he and my mom got married, he took the Firestone name, in part because my mom was the last remaining Firestone, and the name would die out with her. To keep it alive, he took on her last name instead of her taking his. I don’t think it hurt that the Firestone name had more clout, not to mention the fact that my dad didn’t have a good relationship with his side of the family.
“It’s good, even if it came out of left field.” Van nods, but I can tell he’s wondering where I’m going with this.
“I’m twenty-six years old, and I still live with my dad. Which didn’t seem so bad this morning, until that moving van showed up.” And truly it didn’t. I stayed to keep my dad company. “I have to move out, Van. I need to get my own place. I can’t stay there and be a wet blanket while they’re building a future and a life together. And maybe if we still lived in the old house, it would be fine, because I could move into the pool house like Bradley did, or I could take the nanny suite on the other side of the freaking house, and I’d never see them except maybe in the kitchen if I needed to grab something to eat, or the occasional family dinner. But we are literally on top of each other in this house. I don’t want to get in the way of their relationship, and I honestly don’t want to subject myself to old-people romance.”
“Dad isn’t that old,” my brother says with a sympathetic smile.
“I know, but that isn’t the point. The reason I didn’t get my own place when we downsized was because Dad convinced me he wanted my company. And now this. I can’t help but feel like an afterthought. Maybe that sounds selfish. But I stayed for him, and now I feel like I don’t belong there anymore.” As I watch a squirrel trying to jump from one tree to the next, I begin to see that it’s not just about living with my father; it’s more than that. “I work for Smith Financial not because I wanted the job or even love it. I did it because Dad was so thrilled about the prospect of having me work for the same company as him.”
“I didn’t realize you didn’t like the job,” Van says quietly.
“I don’t not like it. It’s just not something I find particularly rewarding. I’m decent at it, and Dad loved having me close, so that seemed like it was enough. But now I’m beginning to feel like I’ve spent most of my life making sure he has someone to support him emotionally, and the decisions I’ve made weren’t about me; they were about making him happy. Which, based on the amount of retail therapy he engaged in over the years, was a complete freaking failure.”
Van gives me a stern look. “You aren’t responsible for Dad’s happiness.”
“I know that. And I think that’s part of the problem. Logically I’m aware that’s true. But I dated Troy because Dad thought he was a good match for me. Not because I was actually in love with Troy. Which is terrible and probably explains why that relationship failed.”
“I don’t think there are any valid explanations for why Troy did what he did, other than him being an asshole and Portia being a horrible friend.”
I don’t bother commenting, because the why is irrelevant. “The point is, everything I’ve been doing I’ve done to make sure Dad is all right. I don’t even know who I am. Or what I like. I have no idea how to take care of myself. I had to learn how to do my own laundry when we moved into the new house, and I shrunk half of my sweaters and turned all of Dad’s white shirts a very pale lavender because I accidentally threw a purple bra in with his whites. I didn’t even know you were supposed to separate things by color!” I throw my hands in the air and let them fall to my lap. “And that Aaron guy who doesn’t even know me doesn’t like me!” I don’t know why I’m so stuck on that last part, especially since it has literally nothing to do with my current existential crisis.
Van takes me by the shoulders. “Aaron doesn’t not like you. He was probably having a bad day. Maybe one of the wives or daughters from across the lake were hounding him to come mow their lawn or something. That always puts him in a mood.”
“Mow their lawn? Is that a euphemism?”