Chapter 12 - My Father Finally Said What Happened
Dad asked to meet me.
I refused private.
We met at Sarah’s office.
He came alone.
Mom did not know initially.
He looked tired.
“I’m sorry.”
“Specific.”
He nodded as though expecting.
“I knew Mia was going to be alone when we left.”
My throat tightened.
“You knew there was no neighbor?”
“I thought Linda was going to ask Mrs. Alvarez.”
“Did you hear her ask?”
“No.”
“Did you ask?”
“No.”
“Why?”
He looked down.
“Because your mother said she handled it.”
“That has been your answer my entire life.”
“Yes.”
The honesty surprised.
He continued.
“I told her we should take Mia.”
“What did she say?”
“That Marissa needed a good trip.”
“And Mia?”
“She said Mia was easy.”
Easy.
There it was again.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“You drove.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you turn around?”
“Because Linda gets…”
He stopped.
“Gets what?”
“Difficult.”
I laughed.
“Dad, a six-year-old was crying in your doorway and you chose not to make your wife difficult.”
He closed eyes.
“Yes.”
“Do you understand why I can’t trust you?”
“Yes.”
“Do you understand this isn’t Mom’s crime while you happened to be nearby?”
“Yes.”
He started crying.
I did not comfort him.
That was new.
He said:
“I kept thinking somebody would check. That you’d call. That nothing would happen.”
“You made my daughter’s safety dependent on somebody else noticing your neglect.”
“Yes.”
Then:
“I’m taking the plea.”
“Why are you telling me?”
“Because I’m not going to blame Linda in court for everything.”
“Good.”
“I also need you to know something about the house.”
“What?”
“Your mother always knew it was yours.”
I stared.
“She tells everyone you stole it.”
“I know.”
“She knew.”
“How?”
“Because every year when tax statement came, she complained your name was on it.”
“Then why pretend?”
“Because saying ‘our house’ made her feel like sale never happened.”
“Did she think I would give it back?”
“Yes.”
“Did I ever promise?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
He hesitated.
“I told her maybe someday you would.”
I laughed softly.
“Of course.”
His attempt to avoid conflict had created another expectation with my property.
He said:
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop promising things you don’t own.”
May you like
He nodded.
That was last father-daughter conversation we had for almost a year.
