Page 69 of Roaming Holiday

“How was the trip?”

“Nice. Very pretty.” I drop my duffle on the foot bench before taking my suitcase out of the closet.

“It’s time we talk,” Dad says. “This is getting a little ridiculous.”

“Then talk.” I should’ve known this was coming.

He rises, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his linen pants. “Are you really angry with me for not telling you about your lineage?”

“Mad doesn’t come close.” I plop the suitcase on the bed and zip it open. I hadn’t expected to be riled up so quickly. “You did more than not tell me. You did more than hide my mother’s title. You hid her entirely.”

“I was doing what she wanted.”

“Really? She wanted to be completely erased from her daughters’ childhoods?”

He scoffs. “I was a new widow with two infants! I didn’t know what I was doing.”

“That much was clear,” I retort, opening the drawers and throwing fistfuls of clothes into the suitcase.

“Excuse me?” Dad narrows his eyes, watching me carefully because we both know that, before this trip, our arguments were limited to his drinking.

“I have always had inconceivable expectations put on me. You wanted me to be the best, but I didn’t know how to be myself. All I knew was how to be the girl you raised me to be.”

He blanches. “And what’s wrong with that girl?”

“She’s tired, Dad! I am so conditioned to have everything done for everyone no matter how it might impact me.”

He wags a finger. “We all had parts to play in keeping our household running.”

I’m grateful that Ruby inspired and helped Dad clean up his act. It hurts that Maia and I weren’t enough motivation, but my stepmom relieved the pressure for me. Ruby’s presence created a rift, and since I was no longer the matriarch of the household, it was like Dad and I had nothing in common anymore.

It was like my skill as his caretaker determined my worth as a daughter, and I was no longer useful.

“No,” I insist. “Your part was running away and emotionally abandoning your daughters and leaving me to pick up?—”

“Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” he snaps, voice echoing through my room. “Crown or not I am still your father and I will be treated with respect! Not everything is about you!”

“YES IT IS,” I scream, and he flinches from my outburst because he expected me to cower. “I finally realized that I am the most important person in my life and you taught me how to take care of everyone but myself, and”—with a sigh, the tears break free at last—“now you expect me to take care of a country.”

Dad stares at me, shaking his head. “You’re using words you don’t fully understand. I did not emotionally abandon you girls.”

“You treated us like burdens,” I seethe, my face heating. “We never did anything as a family until you met Ruby and even then—you didn’t even care what we did!”

“Like when? Give me an example.”

I throw my hands in the air. Every time we argue or have a confrontation, he wants multiple thorough examples to prove my point. Even then, he has excuses to debunk all of it.

“Fine. When I was sixteen, the four of us went to a water park and you told me and Maia to leave you and Ruby alone until we left.” I start counting the incidents on my fingers. “You never came to our volleyball games. You never—made us school lunches, went to parent-teacher nights, picked us up from practice. I raised myself and Maia. Because of what? You were doing what Mom wanted? You were grieving? I didn’t lose one parent from that car accident. I lost two.”

He’s at a loss for words, mouth agape. I only now realize that my door is still open and everyone and their mother probably heard the argument, including Wesley.

Dad’s voice is gentle, quiet. “I… I’m sorry you think that.”

I’m sorry you think that?

A new wave of fury takes me. “Get out.”

“What?”

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