Page 109 of Something Like Sunflowers

As soon as Dustin settles into a spot on the chair beside me, I let it all out. I manage to explain why I need their help to convince Dad and his lawyer buddies to legitimize the certificate before tomorrow’s hearing, but it’s actually Mom who surprises me.

“Devyn, I wasn’t a great mother to you. I won’t apologize. But I will say this.” She scoots to the edge of the sofa and leans into us. “Before I cleaned myself up, I was blind to how lucky I was to be a mother. Especially to the two of you. And you will make great parents who listen and put others first one day. Both of you.” She nods at me and Dustin, perching on the edge of the loveseat. “That being said, I know about Eleanor. I have watched Hunter raise her for many years now. He always said he’d be better than I was, than his dad was. And you will be too, Devyn. You have always shined brightly. I just couldn’t see it past my own darkness.”

I force a smile and nod. It’s not totally fake, but I’m also not going to throw myself around her and tug her close from that alone. It’s not enough for me to say we’re okay. It’s not an apology that encompasses the years of pain her actions caused me.

So, I don’t say okay.

But that doesn’t mean what she said doesn’t warm places in my heart that I believed were frozen for good. Ones a sad little girl carved out of herself and shoved in a shoebox, to hide from the world. From her own self.

My mother’s words, whether I want them to affect me or not, open that box. They may not be enough to heal the carved-out parts of me that took years to break, but they are a start.

So, I do take her hand, and I give my mother what I can offer.

I nod.

She nods back.

But we do not cry.

“Let’s call your dumbass father, now,” she finally manages, and Dustin and I share a look that tells me we agree on one thing. That sounds a lot more like the mom we remember.

Dustin dials up Dad and puts him on speaker on the coffee table.

“Son,” he clips, short and forced. Mom rolls her eyes immediately, and I chew my bottom lip to avoid laughing. She hates that man insurmountably. “Do you need something?”

“Yeah, Dad.” Dustin sighs. He hates talking to our father, and he avoids it like the plague. You can tell by the shake in his voice. Anyone who deals with Dad on a regular basis knows not to wobble. He hates a weak backbone if he perceives one.

I wince, sensing the lash-out coming before it even does.

“Well, spit it out!” he booms through the phone, and I puff a deep gust of air from my cheeks impatiently, which has Mom rolling her eyes again. Anymore and they might fall from her head.

“Dad, let’s cut the crap,” I finally say, because I can’t stand the incompetence. No offense to Dustin and all, but I’m sure Dad appreciates my clarity more than this shuffle of false pleasantries. “I’m gonna send you a marriage license on a napkin and you’re gonna get your friend Randy to approve it over some cocktails at Morgana’s in three hours, okay? I already made the reservation. Please, Dad?”

Dustin shakes his head and rolls his eyes, unable to hide the smile pulling across his lips when his eyes meet my mom’s and they both break out into a low snicker at my antics. “Daddy, pwease,” Dustin whispers in the background, sending Mom bent over in silent cackles and slapping her thigh.

I struggle not to laugh at myself. It is a little ridiculous that I can still pull out these kinds of stops, but if I must use the Daddy’s Girl card, I will. Ellie’s placement is on the line. I’ve done it for new stilettos; I’ll do it for this.

“Dad, I really need you to help me. I’m in love with Hunter, and if we don’t get this filed, he could lose his daughter. Just have Randy sign it and put it through on his little court laptop we’ve all seen him toting around the country club, and all will be well.”

Silence. My heartbeat picks up. He needs to agree to this. I don’t have a plan B. I groan, looking over to Dustin for help, but he just shrugs, unhelpful as ever. I scoff at him and turn to Mom. Thankfully, for once in my life, she offers me a smile and a firm nod of camaraderie.

“Gotta be firm with your father,” she’d always told me when I wanted something as a kid. I have to say, at least they prepared me not to be a pushover in life, whether that kind of thing is healthy for a developing child’s psyche or not.

Be firm it is.

“You can cut the bullshit, Dad, because I know all about you helping Hunter and swearing him off way back when, and don’t think I’m not going to circle back to that once I know this marriage thing is straight.”

He sighs, deep and heavy…contemplative. Mom taps her foot on the tile, as Dustin keeps eyeing the kitchen.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I shout, surprising everyone around me. “I’m a grown-ass woman! Let me make my own damn decisions and stop worrying about my future. I’m worried about right now. And right now, nothing matters but a little girl I can’t fathom living without, who needs a paper you won’t give me.”

“I’m trying to keep you from making mistakes I made. You can be anything in the city, Devy. You’re in a box out there. You’re my little girl.”

“But, Dad, I can’t be anything in the city. You can, but there’s one thing I can’t be there. I can’t be happy. And that is the most important thing of all, isn’t it? Isn’t that why you moved yourself out there and followed your own dreams?”

“Yes, but being a parent to a child who isn’t yours could be…”

“Magnificent. It’s magnificent, Dad, and it’s exactly what I want.”

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