Page 45 of Dream with Me

It’s been a confusing couple of days between Shannon reacting to us having sex by actively avoiding any chance for us to talk privatelyand nowthis. The pale pink monogrammed stationery stares up at me from the tabletop as I sit back against the warm vinyl in the booth at Pat’s Diner.

I pick up the pink paper and unfold it, removing the folded-up piece of white notebook paper stuffed inside and setting it at off to the side.

Troy,

You don’t know me, but my name is Annette. I’ll cut straight to the chase. I’ve been with your father for seventeen years. We live in Pennsylvania now, just an hour outside of Ohio.

I’m writing because your father is very ill. I know you two have not had a relationship, but I wanted to update you on his condition. Also, he asked me to get the letter I’m including to you.

I’ll add my contact information, in case you’d be agreeable to meet with me or talk on the phone.

Sincerely,

Annette

The letter was waiting for me at the station when I got to work the day after Shannon was over. I must’ve read it thirty times. Yet I haven’t even unfolded the white paper that accompanied it. I can’t.

The dangling bells on the door jingle, and I look up to see it’s time to talk about it. I stand from my seat in anticipation. Feeling awkward with everything that’s been going on, I reach out my hand to offer a handshake.

Instead of taking my hand, John gives me an odd look and pulls me into a hug. When we break apart, there’s a smile on his face, but this man has been in my life for eighteen years, so the slight pinched expression doesn’t escape me.

“It’s good to see you, son. I was starting to think you were trying to avoid me.”

We both take a seat in the booth, and I look up at him and know I don’t have a good excuse. John Donley—Shannon’s dad—has been more of a father to me than my father ever was. Hell, he’s been in my life almost twice as long.

John’s not wrong. I was avoiding him, not wanting to put him in the position of feeling like continuing our relationship was somehow betraying Shannon. Plus, there is at least a part of me that wonders if I pulled away preemptively to avoid more pain when he inevitably told me we couldn’t keep up our regular breakfast since Shannon and I weren’t together.

It was when I got the letter from Annette with the accompanying letter from Doug, my father, I knew I wasn’t being fair to John by not communicating with him about what was going on with me and not answering his calls. This is exactly the kind of thing he’s helped me through over the years, and he’s the first one—besides Shannon—I wanted to talk to when I got these letters. Given that Shannon is avoiding me, I haven’t been able to tell her about it, and I’m not sure I even should anymore.

I run a hand through my hair, embarrassed at how distant I’ve been. I’ll be as direct as I can. It’s something I’ve been working on with Marissa as we work on making me a better communicator.

“I’m sorry, John. You’re right. I have been avoiding you, and it wasn’t fair of me to do that without talking to you. I didn’t want you to feel disloyal to Shannon by spending time with me, and I totally get it. She’s your daughter. I wasn’t ready yet to meet and see how different our relationship is.”

John says nothing but stares at me for several long seconds, and when he opens his mouth to speak, Flo, our server, walks up to the table. She fills both of our coffees and places her palms down on the faded laminate tabletop.

“I was starting to wonder what happened to you boys. You’re usually here every couple of weeks, and I swear it’s been at least a month. You two having your usual today?”

“Yes, ma’am for me.” John looks over to me, and I nod to indicate the same.

“Coming right up.” When Flo walks away from the table, John fixes his gaze on me again.

“Troy, you’ve been in our family for almost two decades, now. Whatever is going on with you and Shannon doesn’t change the fact I view you as a son. I know you love my daughter and those four beautiful kids of yours, and you would never do anything intentionally to hurt them. So, just because you and Shannon aren’t together doesn’t mean our relationship changes. Unless you want it to. Even then, that would make me really sad, and I’d try to talk you out of it. But know that’s the only way our relationship is changing for the worse.”

I stare down at my coffee, my throat thick with emotion, and when I try to respond, I can’t get the words out because I’m so choked up. I raise a finger to gesture to him that I need a minute. He remains quiet but taps my forearm and squeezes it for a second before letting go.

When I’ve gotten it together, I look up at him. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much that means to me. The idea of losing you and Rose on top of everything else right now is overwhelming.” I scrub both my hands over my face. This divorce is so fucking hard. “I’m sorry I stayed away.”

“It’s okay. Let’s make sure we both work hard so it doesn’t happen again. Maybe I should’ve been more aggressive and shown up at your house.” He grins at me, and I smile back.

Flo brings our food to the table, and we eat while we catch up. There’s no sense of anything being different between him and me, and I’m immensely grateful for that.

When we’re finished with our food, and our plates are cleared, just our coffee left on the table with us, I slide the pink piece of paper across the table to him.

“What’s this?” His forehead lifts toward his hairline in confusion.

“It’s a letter I received the other day from my father’s wife. Apparently, he’s very ill, and she wanted to let me know. She also included a letter from him, but I haven’t read it yet.”

John blows out a long breath. “Wow, that’s a lot.”

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