Page 96 of Happy After All

I feel run over by this. No one has ever said anything like that to me. People usually agree with me that it sounds like my dad is a decent guy who was in a difficult situation. I feel a little like Nathan has torn a favorite teddy bear out of my hands. A talisman that I find comforting. I like to pretend that I have one good parent.

He’s just made me question that.

“I get it,” Nathan says. “Really. Because my dad is a dick. So it’s easy to have an issue with him. My mom was sweet. Supportive, except she never stopped him from talking to me the way that he does. She never stood up for me. I wouldn’t need her to do it now. But when I was a little kid? I needed somebody to be on my team. She wasn’t. I can come up with all kinds of excuses about why. Shouldn’t somebody stand up for you? I mean, we didn’t choose our parents. I guess they didn’t chooseus, the people we are and the people we grow into, but theydidchoose to have us.”

There’s truth to his words, however uncomfortable they are.

“No, I understand what you’re saying,” I say.

“I didn’t really ever think of it this way either. Not until I met Sarah. I remember, the first time I took her home to have dinner with my parents ... she asked why we all just let our dad talk to us that way. Why we let it be his show. He’s not abusive, we aren’t walking on eggshells around him in that way, but we definitely all let him have his moods. We let him dictate so much of what happens. She came in and pointed out what a mess that was. She also pointed out that at a certain point, everyone is at fault for continuing to allow it.”

“It sounds like she was great,” I say, my throat tightening. I’m not sure that I mean it, though. Because from the grave, this woman has now disrupted a narrative about my life, about my family, and at the same time, I feel ... maybe a little bit jealous. It’s a weird feeling, and I don’t like it.

“I’m just saying, sometimes it takes someone from the outside to see a situation clearly. It sounds to me like nobody did right by you. Not really.”

“Well. Maybe not. Though, it’s why I got into writing.”

“You probably could’ve done it without the trauma.”

“Maybe,” I say, forcing a laugh. “But maybe not.”

“I’m just curious why you didn’t start with books,” he says.

“That felt like a whole different world,” I say. “I felt close to Hollywood. I did not feel close to publishing. But, I have to say, in the end, I’m happier. I actually prefer less collaborative writing. I like being able to have my own life. I feel like every bit of you can get swallowed up in LA.”

“Yeah, I’ve never been tempted to get involved.”

“Even with the TV adaptation of your series?”

“I leave that up to the professionals. Who are not me.”

“Well, I’m not sure I would want to go back now,” I say. “I’m enjoying what I’m doing too much.”

“So you found the right kind of writing for you,” he says.

I nod.

I look around the courtyard. I take in the feeling of rightness in this moment. “I think I ended up where I was supposed to be.”

Even as I say that, something inside me wants to reject it. It makes it feel like I’m saying I was meant to lose my baby. I struggle with that. I don’t think I was. And yet, this place feels like the right place for me. Maybe it’s just the right place for me now. Maybe it really is a matter of the Amelia I was before.

The Amelia that I’ve had to become.

I wrinkle my nose. “Life. It is so very ... life.”

“No argument.”

I lean back against the wrought iron fence that surrounds the courtyard. “How did you meet Sarah?”

I know a lot about her. Just from what he’s said. I know she was strong. I know she loved him. She defended him against his family. She accepted the Nathan of him.

“At a bar,” he says.

I don’t know quite what to do with that. “Really. Not ... a high-end equestrian event? A publishing gala?”

He chuckles. “No. It was a friend of mine from the military’s bachelor party. She happened to be there with a group of friends. We started talking because I had been drinking. And ...”

“You being a little bit drunk is a key part of the story?”

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