Page 99 of Hired Help

My phone rings halfway to the subdivision and I’m shocked to see Mum is the caller. Since I’ve been boarding, a leisurely nine a.m. wakeup call is more her speed. “Hey.”

“What the fuck is going on, Harrison?”

Her voice is so shrill I wince, the noise acting like a needle in my eardrums. A rush of guilt consumes me. My mother doesn’t swear unless she’s really upset. All I want is calm, for the people around me to be happy, but lately, every decision I make hurts someone.

“There’s gossip everywhere about how you and your father are sharing somegirl?” The tone she uses on the last word makes it sound like the world’s worst possible insult. “Honestly, Harrison. We spent so much money getting you into a good school and you’re just throwing it all away with this nonsense. It won’t matter what connections you make if you’ve got a reputation for this weird depravity. Businessmen are conservative. They don’t want to hire someone who’s—” She breaks off with an angry cough. “I can’t evensayit. And yourfather?Hasn’t he dragged you through enough pain over the years?”

I take a beat, head spinning. “Lovely to hear from you.”

She clicks her tongue against her teeth in irritation. “Yes, yes. Next, you’ll tell me to mind my own business when from the moment you were born, my only business has been you and your welfare.”

“I’m fine, thanks for asking. Brooke sends her regards.”

“According to Alicia—”

“The woman who’s been defrauding Brooke for years.”

There’s a cautious pause. “Was she lying to me, then?”

It would be so easy to agree and let this go. Bump it down the road for another day. But that’s hardly the way to show Brooke I’m working on my communication skills. That I understand where I went wrong and what I need to put right.

I grit my teeth and answer, “No, she wasn’t lying. I’m back together with Brooke and so is Dad.”

“Harrison! I don’t even—” She breaks off, panting with outrage. “How could you do this to me? That man disappointed you your whole life and now you’re what? Choosing him over me? The woman who loved you and cared for you and made sure you never wanted for anything. You know that man has never attempted to—”

“What did you hope to achieve?” I interrupt, not needing another world-according-to-Gwyn lecture. “When you lied to me, and you lied to him? Did you think he’d just stop being my father and I’d forget I was his son? What’s he done that’s so horrible you fooled us both for years?”

“What are you talking about? I’ve never—”

“You have. If you need a graphic reminder, I’m happy to collate our separate memories into a document and forward it to you. Is that what you’re after?”

There’s a longer pause than before, then she blurts, “I know that man better than you do. You need to trust me.”

“Did you steal my phone?” I stop on the path, leaning back against a lamppost for support, wishing Brooke and Dad were here.

But they are here in a way. I carry them within me. They give me the impetus to continue, even knowing how rough this conversation will become.

“We compared messages, and he has one from me telling him to stop texting. But you know what, Mum? It’s not from me. I never sent that message.”

She’s silent. Only the faint barking from Martin’s dogs let me know she’s still on the line.

“You took my phone, and you sent him that text, then deleted it so I wouldn’t know. How could you? All those days where I thought he didn’t show—”

I have to stop, biting my lip as a wave of grief crashes into me. The combined weight of every hour spent waiting, hoping this time would be different, when it wasn’t. All the years thinking I wasn’t good enough to earn the love of my father and now that I know it wasn’t true, it’s somehow worse, because carelessness is one thing and actively seeking to hurt me is quite another.

My voice is low, the only way I can keep it steady as I say, “You let me believe he didn’t love me, didn’t want to talk to me any longer, and for what? What has he done that’s so awful you destroyed me, over and over again, just to tear him out of my life?”

Her breathing is ragged. I can picture her, how her cheeks will be blotchy red, her eyes flashing. It’s not the noise she makes when she’s sorry; it’s the noise she makes when she’s been caught. “We can discuss this in person when you come home. I’m sending tickets.”

“No. I’m staying here.”

And her voice comes back with a vicious streak I haven’t heard for years. “No, you won’t. Martin won’t pay your expensive tuition while you’re continuing this… this…immoralrelationship.”

“Then Brooke and I will move in with Dad, fulltime.” I break into a laugh. “Considering I begged you to let me leave school just over a month ago, taking it away hardly counts as a threat.”

“Don’t youdareembarrass me this way.”

I hear it then. The reason. I hear it so clearly in her voice I can’t imagine why I missed it before.

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