Page 95 of Those Two Words

I rise up on my tiptoes, plant one last kiss against his lips, and pull away when his arms start to slink around me, trying to pull me closer.

“Ah-ah,” I chide, taking a step backward and pointing an authoritative finger at him.

“You’re so cunnin’ when you’re angry.”

“Oh god, you sound like Lenny. You’ve spent way too long in this town, Patrick Sadler.”

He throws me a wink and walks out the front door. When I hear the door at the bottom of the stairs shut, I run to the window and watch as he climbs into his truck. He looks up to where I’m standing, kisses his hand, and lays it over his chest.

Be still my beating heart.

As my finger hovers over the doorbell, I let out a little laugh at how ridiculous I’m being. This is my childhood home; I have a key. I doubt it’s even locked.

I’ve avoided my dad since Lottie’s birthday party, and I hate that we’ve hardly spoken in the last couple of weeks, only talking business when he’s been at the restaurant. I called yesterday to check on him, but it was a short conversation as he was on his way out to see some friends.

I try the handle and when I find it unlocked as suspected, I push my way in and shut it behind me.

“Dad?” I call through the house.

When I’m met with silence, I can only guess he’s in the basement listening to old records. Kicking off my sneakers, I walk toward the basement stairs, when a familiar gold frame catches my eye.

The jigsaw puzzle that was and still is the bane of my existence stares at me. When I was twenty-three, I came home drunk and attempted to pry the damn thing off the wall. My dad caught me, and the next day, he reinforced the frame to the wall, arguing that it’s his favorite piece of “art” in the house.

It wasn’t a complicated puzzle by any means, just the sun setting over a mountain range somewhere in the world. I’ve stared at the scenery so many times, I could probably draw the missing piece by memory. Blue, purple, and pink hues for the sky and a tiny speck of white for the tip of the snowy mountain.

Now, whenever I look at it, I’m reminded of Patrick’s betrayal.

I can’t believe he was the one to take it all along, and then lost it! I run my finger along the glass where that piece should sit and shake my head, a small laugh breaking free. I suppose in a lot of ways, it was always him.

The raw sounds of a saxophone greet me as I enter the basement, and I find my dad sorting through my mom’s old records that line the back wall.

“Hey, Dad,” I shout above the music.

He looks up and smiles when he sees me. “Hey, kiddo, what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to pop by and see you.” I settle in the recliner in the corner of the room.

“I’m a lucky guy. Do you want to stay for dinner?” He’s texted me a few times asking me to come for dinner, but I’d say I was too tired or had already eaten. I’m not proud of it, but I was feeling bitter after our conversation at the party.

I know my dad didn’t mean to upset me; all he’s ever done is care and support Harriet and me, but it hurt to think he doesn’t trust my own strength.

“I’d love that. What are we having?”

“Pizza?”

“I’ll make us something. You eat way too many frozen pizzas, it’s gonna catch up with you one day. What are you doing?”

Patting his stomach, he purses his lips and shakes his head. “Oh, just sorting through your mom’s records. She had so many, I bet she didn’t even listen to them all.”

“You bought them for her.”

“Oh yeah, so I did.” He winks, before sitting in the recliner opposite me. “It’s good to see you. How are things?”

“They’re good…” I tap my fingers against my thigh but stop myself, because there’s no need to feel anxious about this conversation. “I’m sorry I haven’t been over, or that I didn’t come to see you yesterday.”

I called my dad yesterday afternoon, before I found Patrick at the beach. Ted was his best friend, and yesterday would have been hard for him. He went around to see Claire in the morning and took her out for lunch, something I know they do every year. When we spoke on the phone, he was halfway out the door, off to Shirley’s to meet some of his and Ted’s old school friends for a drink.

I feel bad for not seeing him, but Patrick needed me more.

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