‘I did. Twice, I think.’ I’m still startled by this memory, and the detail returns to me slowly. I remember taking her phone while she was in the bathroom and copying his mobile number into mine. I called Laith the first time from the car on the way to Dad’s house and he hung up on me as soon as I identified myself.
I was going to leave it at that, but it didn’t feel like I’d tried hard enough – so standing in the lobby of the church just before our guests arrived, I blocked my number and tried calling one last time. I started the conversation with a pleading apology and then all but begged him to come, grovelling in a way that made me feel sick.
I’m sorry, Laith. Please. This isn’t about me, or even you – it’s about the one thing we have in common – Molly. Please.
I was ready that day to put all my hatred for Laith behind us. She’d been so fragile and so wounded as she lay in bed that morning, talking about how much she wanted her father to walk her down the aisle. I didn’t get her need for his approval and his blessing and I didn’t want to be taking my vows with Laith’s disapproving glares on my back. But bigger and bolder and more important than any of that, I wanted Molly to be happy. I knew I’d forever regret it if I didn’t try to get him there. I didn’t want to see disappointment on her face as she walked down the aisle towards me to start our life together.
‘I think you’re mistaken, Leo,’ she says now. She’s got her handbag on one arm and her other hand on the door. I unlock the brake on the wheelchair but remain still.
‘No, I definitely did. I tried to convince him to come to the wedding. It didn’t work, obviously – but I called him. Twice.’
If you think I’m coming to give my blessing to the biggest mistake of my little girl’s life, you’ve got another thing coming, Stephens.
Please, Laith, it means the world to her. Don’t do it because I’m asking you to – do it for Molly.
Don’t worry, I’ll be there for her when she divorces you. I’ll be ready and waiting.
‘You never told me that,’ Molly says. ‘You hate Dad, Leo. You even hate that I still see them. You throw that in my face all of the time.’
‘I must still be missing something – there must be a reason I’ve never told you this,’ I sigh. ‘I’m not saying I’m your father’s biggest fan all of a sudden – it wasn’t that big of a knock to my skull. I guess I’m just saying if you wanted me to try to reach out to them before the baby comes, I could. Give it some thought.’
She stares at me from the doorway, and then she says very quietly, ‘Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank me yet. It might be a disaster.’
‘It means a lot to me that you’d offer that. It shows me that you really do want to work on this.’
‘I told you that last night.’
‘I know. But – thanks.’
27
Molly – December 2011
Leo left after breakfast to dress with Andrew at his parents’ home, and Anne and Teresa arrived in his place They were giggling like schoolgirls from the moment they walked through the front door and for a while I forgot about my jitters about my parents.
‘We never thought we’d see this day,’ Anne told me more than once that morning. ‘He’s so old to be getting married, don’t you think? But he loves you so much, Molly. I never thought I’d see him this happy.’
Just the thought that I’d made Leo happy made me feel light inside – and I floated through the morning with his mother and sister. I felt more beautiful than I ever had in my life.
I’d had a dress made for the day – I’d had a picture in my mind and nothing I’d found on the rack had done it justice. For the most part, our wedding would be a modest affair and at Leo’s stubborn insistence we’d agreed to split the expenses down the middle. But I’d insisted on handling the dress on my own, and it was a good thing too – it had been incredibly expensive. It was an ivory lace gown, with a trumpet skirt and capped sleeves, and a little belt of a slightly darker shade of lace that tied right at the point of a deep V-necked back. I wore a tiny pillbox hat, which held in place a netted veil that covered half of my face. Teresa and Anne waited in the living room downstairs while I dressed alone, and when I walked down the stairs to show them, Anne burst into noisy sobs.
We’d chosen a small sandstone church only a few blocks from Leo’s house. There was no bridal party – we’d only invited thirty people anyway, and Anne and Teresa travelled in the car with me to help me manage the dress.
When the limo stopped at the front door, Leo’s mother and sister helped me out, and I looked along the street. It was a densely populated area and the street was lined with cars on both sides. I scanned in each direction, searching for one of the black cars from the Torrington fleet.
Suddenly I felt completely sure that Dad would come. Even if he loathed Leo, he wouldn’t miss this – he just wouldn’t. I was his only living child. I was his only daughter. I was his baby girl. If Mum and Dad didn’t come, I would have no family there at all; it just wouldn’t be right.