Page 72 of Gross Misconduct

“Is this Jill Bowman?”

Sad how he didn’t even know the sound of my voice, though I didn’t know his either. A voice that sounded older than it should have been, and a little coarse.

“Yes. Who is this?” I asked. Of course I knew, but he wasn’t getting off easy.

“Hi, Jill. This is Bill Rebchuk. I guess I’m your dad.”

What a tool. He guessed? “Hello, Bill,” I said rather cooly. The man didn’t deserve any warmth or to be called a dad.

“I know you called me back a few weeks ago, but I wasn’t sure if I should call you back. To be honest, I’m not sure why I called in the first place.”

How was I supposed to respond to that? I figured it was best to ask questions. “And why is that?”

“I haven’t been part of your life, and I’m sorry for that. I should have tried harder. I feel like an ass for calling after all these years. But I sure am happy you’ve made a good life for yourself.”

Part of me wanted to scream at him and tell him how hard it had been to make that good life. And that by his absence, he hadn’t made life any easier. But I held my tongue for now.

“You didn’t even send a birthday card.”

“I know I’m a coward. I should have fought your mother harder, but money was tight, and I had nothing to fight with.”

This was laughable. Fight my mother? She probably would have handed me over. “Do you want the cold, hard truth, Bill, or would you like me to sugarcoat what life was like growing up?”

He waited a breath before answering. “I think you should tell me the truth. I deserve it.”

I leaned back in my chair and looked out the window. I needed something peaceful to keep me centered when I unleashed on Bill Rebchuk. “You left me behind with a woman who didn’t want to be a mother. She did the bare minimum, Bill. Do you know how many times she forgot to sign me up for school field trips? Or how many times I went to school as a kid with a granola bar and whatever else I could scrounge up because she couldn’t bother with lunches? Or how teachers felt sorry for me because when it came time for school plays, I didn’t have a costume? Speaking of costumes, I think she forgot to get me a Halloween costume every single year. But that wasn’t the worst of it. I can count on one hand how many times she gave me a hug or told me she loved me. I was a nuisance to her, and she never let me forget it.”

“Oh god,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry, Jill.”

“The fact I’m successful now all comes down to me. I had to grow up on my own, and if it hadn’t been for my two best friends, who knows where I’d be. And I’m still messed up, but a lot of therapy and perseverance have helped. If you think you’re going to waltz back into my life after all these years, you can think again.”

“I don’t want you to think I want something. It’s not about that. And if you don’t want to hear from me again, I understand. But if it helps, I want you to know that I’m proud of you, and I want you to be happy. I’m so glad you have people who care about you, and that you’re getting married to a man who loves you.”

I wanted to yell at him that I wasn’t getting married, that I wasn’t even sure if Jeremy and I could be together again, but Bill didn’t deserve to know that. “And that’s all despite you.”

“I accept that. I just want you to be happy. The last thing in the world I expected was for Jeremy Vaughn to call me up and reconnect me with you. He seems like a decent man who would do anything for you, so at least he won’t let you down. And if you decide it’s the last time we talk, it was worth hearing from you, to know you are okay.”

I watched a sailboat out on the water and wished I was on it. I closed my eyes and imagined it for a second. How peaceful and serene it would be. I opened my eyes again and sighed. “I wish you nothing but the best, Bill, but I think this should be the last time we speak. Take care.”

I took an Uber to Tangi’s so that we could go to pick up Wolseley together. I hadn’t said much to Tangi about Jeremy other than some basics. I didn’t need or want to burden my friends with my problems, and she didn’t ask, but I sensed she knew something was up. Jeremy likely told Ethan, and Ethan told her. The best way to head off any questions was to talk about something else.

“Clay paid off my student loans,” I said as we drove to their airport. Wolseley was only staying a few days, but we had them packed with things to do, and we decided that it was best thatWolseley would stay with me since I was more centrally located. I think Wolseley liked the idea too. She wanted to check out as many downtown restaurants as possible.

“That’s great,” Tangi said, her face lighting up.

“I wasn’t exactly happy about it, but he said it was because I was doing a good job.”

“You have been. You’ve also been dealing with a lot of crap.”

We were veering dangerously close to the subject of Jeremy, so it was time to pivot. “We should take Wolseley to Stanley Park. I think she’d love it there.”

“I think there is a vegan restaurant nearby. She’ll want to check it out.”

We spent the rest of the drive coming up with other places, and before we knew it, we were pulling up to the airport. We parked and headed for her arrival gate, and when she came through the sliding doors, she squealed when she saw us.

Her hair was peach now, a longer bob that accentuated her roundish face. She’d always been the curvy one and complained that her boobs were an impediment to her work, but the guys sure seemed to like and stare at them. She had on a wool sweater that looked like someone’s grandmother had made it, and her brown corduroy pants had a hint of a bell bottom. The three of us were as different as could be, but we made an incredible trio.

Wolseley hugged us both, and the light scent of her familiar patchouli-scented oil greeted me. She made it herself with essential oils, and it reminded me of home, and for the first time, I missed it a bit.

---