It Started with Goodbye

I pulled away and looked into his eyes, the same warm brown as mine. “What did she say?” My voice trembled. It must have been pretty enlightening. And convincing.

He pulled me in again and kissed the top of my head, like he had when I was little. I closed my eyes and breathed in his dad-scent: laundry detergent and the peppermint gum he always chewed on planes. “Nothing I didn’t already know. This trip gave me a lot of time to think about you, Tatum, and what happened, and I found a lot of clarity about the whole situation. I even had a planned speech for today, ready to go, and then Ashlyn called and it just cemented what I needed to say to you. She told me the truth. She told me how you were the best friend she’d ever had and were always taking care of her, even when she made questionable decisions. Which you’d already told me, and I was too stubborn to give enough weight to at the time.”

I couldn’t believe this was happening. These were the words I had wished for all summer.

My dad pulled away and looked into my teary face, then pressed me to him once more, murmuring into the top of my head. “I’m sorry, Tatum. I should have fought harder for you. I should have trusted that I raised you to do the right thing and trusted that you did it. That you still do it.” I exhaled into the fabric of his shirt. “Can you forgive your dad?”

I nodded into his chest, my hair going all astray from the friction. Tears pricked my eyes. I knew he and I had a lot more we needed to talk about, but in that moment, those words were the only thing I wanted.

We disconnected and smiled at each other. Only then did my dad notice the rest of our family, standing around expectantly. He kissed Belén chastely and hugged Tilly and Blanche.

As we headed toward baggage claim, my dad took my hand and linked it in the crook of his elbow, something he hadn’t done in probably a decade. “So what’s this I hear about you designing websites?”

I choked out a laugh. “I’ll tell you all about it at dinner.” And I knew I would. That, and a lot more.




While Tilly and I set the table, we whispered the game plan to each other. I knew it was now or never when it came to confessing the truth. The whole truth about the entire summer. If I was really going to start over with my dad and Belén, I had to stick to my promise to Blanche. Though the idea of coming clean and putting myself in my parents’ shoes took all the air out of my lungs when Blanche and I first discussed it, the small steps forward I’d made since then lessened my fear.

“Do you want to go first?” I asked Tilly as she folded the cloth napkins into triangles. “You have less to say.”

“Do you want me to go first? What will be less scary for you?”

I could have wept at how normal this felt. My stepsister, no longer cased in ice as I had imagined for years, was putting my needs over her own. I passed her a handful of forks and reached for the water glasses. Would it be better to go first and get it over with? “You know, no. I’ll go first. Rip off the Band-Aid.” I chuckled to myself as I set a glass at my dad’s place. “Maybe you piping up after me will soften the blow.”

Once the five of us were sitting around the table, a steaming square of carbtastic, cheesy deliciousness on the plates before us, I cleared my throat. Four sets of eyes swung toward me as if I’d beat on a glass with a knife at a wedding. Too bad Seamus wasn’t here for me to kiss; that would’ve been much nicer.

“So, now that Dad’s home, I want to talk about this summer. And my, um, arrest.” That word, even after I’d come to terms with my innocence, felt stale and wrong in my mouth. Moving right along. I focused on my father, who was seated at the head of the table, and wished for courage to make it through.

“Dad, I need to thank you for what you said at the airport. You knowing that I was just trying to protect my friend is everything. Everything.” He nodded, his eyes crinkling in the corners. “And I also need to tell you that I get it. I get why you were mad. Why you thought I put myself at risk. Why I should have asked for your help. I didn’t take the potential consequences from being around someone like Chase seriously, until they weren’t potential anymore. That’s my fault, and I’m sorry.”

I held my breath.

“I forgive you, Tatum,” my dad said, without even a nanosecond’s hesitation.

I let out my breath, probably too loudly, and Blanche winked at me. My eyes shifted to the other end of the table, where Belén sat. “And I’m sorry for worrying you too, Belén. I won’t do it again.”

I thought I detected her lower lip quiver, but I wasn’t certain. She blinked and said, “I forgive you as well, Tatum.”

Blanche’s foot nudged mine under the table, probably to point out how she’d been right and I hadn’t had any reason to be nervous. I nudged her back and inhaled. I hadn’t gotten through the worst part yet.

“I’m glad. That means a lot to me.” I met Belén’s eyes, focused right on me, and then went back to looking at my lasagna. “Because I have more I need to say. Um, confess actually, Belén.”

I couldn’t look at her as I recounted the bulleted point list in my head of the times I’d snuck out, including tricking Belén into giving me permission to go to Sol Jam with Tilly. I spilled about my graphic design work, about pet sitting, about writing the article with Abby, and about my plans for the money I had earned. I even threw in a bit about applying to college. I made sure that she understood I was motivated not only by my need for fun, but also my desire to be more involved at school and with my future.

“I know those things don’t make up for the fact that I deceived you, but I thought they were important to mention. I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”

Belén was quiet throughout my speech, and remained silent for a good five minutes once I’d finished. I was starting to get worried that I’d caused her to have a coronary, so I finally looked up, and discovered she was watching me. My knees quaked in my seat, bracing for a verbal blow, but it never came.

“Tatum, did you feel you needed to lie to me because you didn’t think I would approve?”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“I see.” Her lip was definitely trembling. “I’m sorry if that was the impression I gave you. My intention has always been, from the day your father and I got married, to protect you.”

“I know—”

Belén put a hand up to stop me. “I am aware you think my ideas are harsh.”

I would have used a different word than harsh, but I felt grateful she recognized this about herself.

“And if you felt I was being unfair to you, I hope you can understand that I acted in the way that I felt was right. I thought you needed boundaries.” Blanche’s commentary about parents disagreeing sometimes about what “right” is echoed in my ears.

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