Page 33 of Forgettable in Every Way

“Please, s-s-s-tay with me,” Dad begged. “L-l-l-et me be a better father. I want you to see what I see when I look at you.”

“What’s that?”

“The best person I know.”

Oh. Wow. I wasn’t expecting that. I wasn’t sure what to think. All I knew was I was hoping to meet the woman my dad saw too. Could I discover her here in Aspen Lake? Would I finally find somewhere to belong?

Jules

THIS WAS DEFINITELY GOING DOWN as one of the weirdest weeks of my life. I stared at my dad walking slowly next to me, using his walker while I held on tightly to Winston, who, if he could talk, would probably tell me off for taking him on yet another stroll. This time, we were trekking on a smooth paved trail that wound its way through the lush greenery surrounding a local park and pond. The morning sun was shining brightly, making it warm, but not overly so. I breathed in the scent of the wildflowers in an array of purples and reds lining the path, thinking about the last few days.

Let’s just say if words were fireworks, the Carmichael house would have put on the most spectacular show before the entire place burned down in a blaze of glory. My mother was livid Dad didn’t want to move, and my sisters were up in arms about it too, especially Violet. Apparently, she was counting on my mom moving near her so she could help with her kids. Which was weird because my mom wasn’t the doting grandma sort, as far as I could tell. By the amount of weeping and wailing I’d heard by phone and in person the last couple of days, one would have thought something horrifically biblical had happened, like a plague of locusts or the water supply turning to blood. Yet, Dad was firm in his decision. He refused to move.

Honestly, I was worried Mom would move without him and they were headed for what society deemed a “gray” divorce—a divorce after fifty. From the sounds of my mother’s not-so-dulcet tones projected throughout the house, she resented Dad. She felt as if she’d paid her dues holding down the fort, as she said, while Dad was often gone on business trips and worked late into the night. She wanted the retirement they had planned for—traveling the world and mingling with friends. Dad had his complaints too. He felt as if Mom only wanted him for the money and the lifestyle he had afforded us all, and he’d mentioned the long hours could be attributed to Mom’s lack of warmth. I believe he also called her and my sisters demanding, but his voice was a little hard to make out because of the stroke.

Needless to say, my world was being rocked. Everything I thought I knew was coming into question. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. In fact, I was pretty sure I was my dad’s favorite kid. Not that I’d been angling for that, or even thought it was healthy for parents to have favorites. But I’d thought for sure my sisters were the favorites. Dad had admitted to me he found my sisters exhausting.

At this point, I hadn’t gone back to LA because it seemed important to Dad that I stay, and well, I wanted to see where all these recent revelations would lead. I had a feeling I needed to understand my true past so I could discover present-day me. Even though it was more than uncomfortable living in a house where the tension was so charged, it felt like a shock to the system. I’ll say this: I’d never felt more seen in my life. My parents were constantly looking at me now with a mixture of remorse and fear. Mom had even bought me flowers and placed them by my bedside with a box of cookies from a local bakery. Every time I saw her, she opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but she’d hardly uttered a word to me the past few days. No doubt, Dad had told her what I’d said in the hospital.

“I’m s-s-sorry we didn’t make it to your g-g-graduation,” Dad said out of the blue, interrupting my thoughts. He had combed his hair this morning, and his skin wasn’t as sallow as it had been. Although the nasty bruise on his face was turning shades of purple and yellow.

His declaration surprised me. My first instinct was to say it was okay, but that was old, invisible me. New me, or the me I was trying to be, asked, “What happened? Why didn’t you come?”

Dad gripped his walker tighter.

I was proud of him for coming outside. I knew his new reality embarrassed him.

“We were p-p-planning o-o-n it, b-b-but your mother and I g-g-got into a fight and neither of us would give in. We punished each other by refusing to go.”

I stopped on the path, once again flabbergasted by all this new information. “I didn’t even know you and Mom ever disagreed.”

Dad paused too, a heavy sigh escaping him. “We made a d-d-deal to never f-f-fight in front of you girls. Most often, our disa-g-g-greements led to days of silence.”

“And punishing me,” I added. “You don’t know how much I wanted you to see me graduate. I felt so alone and humiliated.” I didn’t hold anything back.

Dad swallowed hard. “I d-d-deeply regret hurting you. You could always stand on your own and we took that for g-g-granted. Your mother’s and my relationship has been h-h-hard f-f-for a long time. We tried not to let it show, but I realize now how b-b-badly we have injured you.”

I started walking again, slowly, so Dad could keep pace. Winston wasn’t thrilled, but he moseyed along with us. I wasn’t sure what to say other than, “I guess the saying is true: the squeaky wheel gets the grease.”

“You’re n-n-not a wheel and you should h-h-have never needed to squeak. I’m v-v-very proud of you.”

“You are? Even though I’m not as accomplished as my sisters?” I asked with no ill intent, just a genuine curiosity.

Dad cleared his throat, ashamed. “You are more accomplished than any of us in the ways that m-m-matter. It t-t-takes a special kind of daughter to stay when we’ve g-g-given you every reason to go. You never left my s-s-side in the hospital,” he cried. “It m-m-meant the world to me. Julia, you mean the world to me.”

I wiped the moisture out of my eyes, still shocked by all these revelations. “Well, if that’s true, you should probably get to know more about me.” Maybe along the way, I could remember myself.

“I would l-l-love that. Let’s st-t-tart with your time in N-N-New York. What did you think of it?”

I looked up at the blue sky with only a few, wispy clouds, thinking of my time there. “It’s busy and loud, and I mostly loved it.” I left out the part about how much I didn’t enjoy rooming with Penelope. I was tired of giving her space in my head. And it embarrassed me to realize how much I had let her push me around. It was like I had doormat written on my forehead and begged people to walk all over me. No more, though. I was taking a Magic Eraser to it and scrubbing it off as hard as I could. “There’s just this energy about it that makes you feel alive and like you always want to be doing something. Yet, it’s easy to find yourself doing absolutely nothing but walking around in the park and getting lost in a crowd.”

“I’ve always thought of New Y-Y-York as a gateway to the world,” Dad offered.

I nodded. “I agree. You can hop on a plane there and go anywhere or just walk enough blocks and feel as if you’ve immersed yourself in a dozen cultures.”

Dad pressed forward, maneuvering his walker the best he could, avoiding the gaze of any who passed by us. “And ... it-t-t sounds like you m-m-met someone special there. Simon? He’s the m-m-man who came over this week.”

I tensed up. I’d been trying not to think about Simon, but I’d failed miserably. Thoughts of why he’d come to the hospital inundated me, even though I knew it was all done in the name of friendship. But I kept wondering how Jack was and if I’d ruined his beloved book. I was still searching online, to no avail, hoping to find a copy. I hoped Jack didn’t hate me or quit believing in the wonders of Princess Jewel. We needed childhood stories. Make-believe was powerful magic.

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