He gives me a tired smile. “Thanks, kiddo.”
I unload my books on my bed and start my homework. Down the hall, I hear Becky preparing dinner and Dad rustling around in his room. A few minutes later, I hear him in the kitchen with Becky. “My therapist says I’m supposed to keep busy, so put me to work.”
I focus on my homework, but smile. He sounds so much more like his old self, so maybe we really can get our lives back.
I finish my physics homework and go to my dresser to find something to wear to work. As much as I like working at Sam Hill, I can’t seem to get the smell of onions and cooking oil out of clothes. As I pass by the door, I realize the banging in the kitchen has stopped and instead there are hushed voices drifting up the hall.
My heart claws up my throat at the certainty Becky is telling Dad about Marcus, even though she told me she wouldn’t. Why else would they be whispering?
The door creaks when I push it wider and I grab it to stop the whine. When I step through the opening, their voices are more audible, but I can still only make out a few words.
I tiptoe closer to the end of the hall and press my back against the wall.
“…no idea how much this has torn me apart,” I hear Becky say.
I’m ready to go out there and defend Marcus, but then what? If she’s already told him, there’s nothing I can do. I hold my breath and brace for Dad’s explosion, but all he says is a quiet, “It’s been a rough road.”
They’re not talking about Marcus. Relief sweeps through me and I sag against the wall and close my eyes.
“This is the first time I’ve seen the real you shining out of those eyes in a very long time,” Becky says, her voice a caress.
I chance a peek around the corner and see them standing at the counter. Dad is leaning his backside against it and Becky’s standing at this side, her hip propped against the cabinets…and her hand cupping his cheek—which strikes me as strange, considering Dad has barely looked at her since we got here.
Dad hauls a shuddering breath and lowers his gaze from hers. “We shouldn’t have come here. If I’d had anywhere else to go, we wouldn’t have. I just...I needed Addie to have something stable.”
“Well, at least you recognized that through your alcohol haze,” she says, lowering her hand. “And I’m glad you came.”
“Really?” Dad asks, his voice full of trepidation as he lifts his gaze back to hers.
“Of course. I never want you to think you can’t come to me, Bruce. Things might not have worked out how we originally planned, but I’ll always be here for you and Addie.”
I start tiptoeing up the hall to get ready for work as Becky adds, “She asked about us today.”
Becky’s comment stops me cold. It’s more whispered than her previous comments, as if protecting a secret.
Dad’s voice is lower too when he answers. “I heard you when you told me she couldn’t go through life thinking it was her fault. It was mine. Telling her the truth was the only way to make her understand that.”
Something cold cuts through the pit of my stomach and I pin myself to the wall again.
“Are you ever going to tell her the whole truth?” Becky asks.
“Maybe,” he answers. “Someday.”
I try to process what I’m hearing and the pieces start to click together. Dad’s drinking was bad before we moved here, but it definitely got worse after. Especially when Becky was home. Which wasn’t very often. Was Becky’s travel schedule on purpose? Is it too hard for her to be with him now? And Dad never looked at Becky. I thought it was for the same reason it’s hard for me to look at her—she looks just like Mom, but what if it’s more?
My suspicions are all confirmed when Becky says softly, “If you truly believe our affair is the reason Maggie is dead, then it’s just as much my fault as yours.”
My stomach turns to lead and some sound between anger and anguish tries to claw its way up my throat. I close my eyes and swallow it.
Dad cheated on Mom with her sister.
I hear Dad blow out a long sigh. “Every day I have to take an internal baseball bat to all the ‘what ifs,’ but I’m finally starting to see it was just the perfect storm. Do I feel responsible for what happened? Absolutely. But I’m also so fucking mad at Maggie for putting Addie in that position.”
Dad’s voice grows thick and when I peek around the corner into the kitchen again, he’s still at the counter, but Becky’s moved to one of the kitchen chairs, watching him.