Page 32 of Forgettable in Every Way

My eyes widened. “You don’t? I thought you wanted to be closer to Violet and near a more specialized hospital.”

“No,” he grumbled. “That’s your m-m-mother. She’s emb-b-barrassed.”

“What does she have to be embarrassed about?” Other than groping Simon.

He closed his eyes. “Me.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Look at me.”

“Dad, you’re sick. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

He laughed a garbled, mirthless laugh. “If only ... you ... knew,” he stuttered.

“Then tell me.”

He opened his watery eyes, which looked very much like my own, and studied me.

Sometimes, I forgot we shared the same eye color. I think there are a lot of things I have forgotten. Most of all, what it felt like to be a daughter.

“You’re a g-g-good g-g-girl, Julia. You have always been,” he breathed out. I could hear the exertion in every syllable.

While I appreciated that, I wasn’t sure what it had to do with my mother being embarrassed by my father.

“I’m sorry you feel innn—visi—ble,” he managed to say.

Oh, he definitely heard a lot of my conversation with Calista. What a faker he was.

I bit my lip. “I guess you weren’t asleep last night or this morning.”

He offered me a small smile. “I heard ... what ... I n-n-needed to.”

“Is that why you want me to stay? You feel guilty?”

“No,” he said adamantly and clearly. “I miss you.”

“Do you even know me?” I ached to know.

He slowly and painfully nodded. “You’re my g-g-g-irl.”

“How can you say that? You ignore me. You always have.” My voice bordered on a breakdown and a certain amount of pride because I was finally sticking up for myself.

“I know that’s ... what it must ... look like to you. But it’s not t-t-t-rue.”

“It is true,” my voice faltered.

“No, Julia. It’s just you were so easy when ...” He had to pause and take several breaths. “When your sisters and mother have been so d-d-d-ifficult,” he admitted.

My brows shot up to the sky. What was he trying to say? “I don’t understand.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Julia, you never c-c-complained. N-n-never demanded. I was so tired, and you were so easy.”

“So you just forgot about me? Is that it?”

He opened his eyes and caught hold of my own. “I think of how g-g-grateful I am you’re m-m-my daughter with almost every thought.”

I sat back in the chair in disbelief. I never would have guessed my father thought of me at all. And what about him not wanting to move? How was my mother going to feel about that?

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