Page 46 of Dream with Me

A sarcastic tsk escapes me. “Yeah, not really something I needed at this time in my life either. I-I wanted to see if you’d read the letter and let me know what you think. See if maybe I should talk with her or not.”

Jon nods at me and picks up the pink piece of paper, unfolds it, and reads it. A minute or so later, he folds it again and slides it across the table to me.

“Do you plan on reading the one from your father?”

“I think so. I’m not sure, though. I’m afraid it will make me feel guilty like I should go see him, and I don’t know if I wanna do that.”

“Well, first of all, you don’t need to feel any guilt regardless of what you decide to do. You were a child when he left you, and he hasn’t been in your life for almost twenty-five years. True, he did try to reach out, but it was always up to you whether or not you wanted to meet with him. I don’t mean to sound harsh, but you don’t owe him anything. If you choose to meet with him, it should be because you want to, not because you think you have to.”

His words are like a healing balm to my soul. Whether to see my father or not has been weighing heavy on me.

“The funny thing is, and you probably don’t know this because I’ve been avoiding everybody, but I’ve finally come to a place in my life where I’ve dealt with my feelings about him. I’ve been seeing a counselor. I started when Shannon asked for the divorce, and I’ve done a lot of work with her over the last few months about the trauma of my dad leaving and feeling like it was my fault.”

“I don’t care if you were the best child in the world or the worst. It wasnotyour fault.” The certainty in his voice is validating and soothes a lingering ache in my heart I didn’t know still existed. I think this must be what it feels like to have a dad be protective of you.

“I know that, and when I became a dad, I realized it wasn’t my fault in theory, but apparently, there were still some deep-rooted emotions about it I hadn’t dealt with. I’d never do that to my kids, no matter what they did. But what I didn’t deal with was the patterns I’d developed and the feelings that have followed me through the years as a result of his rejection. I’ve done that now. It’s a process, and it hasn’t been easy work, but I’m grateful for it. I’m still seeing her to work on skill building for communication.”

“I’m proud of you, son.” The smile on John’s face tells me he one hundred percent means it.

“Thank you. I haven’t decided if I’ll see him or not, assuming he even wants to see me. I don’t want to go see him out of guilt, but I also don’t want to be the man who regrets it later. I don’t think I would, but there’s a small part of me that worries I could be wrong. I have to decide how I’m going to handle it, but in the meantime, I was kind of hoping you could do me a favor.”

Without hesitation, John nods. “Of course, anything.”

I laugh nervously. “Be careful. You never know what you might get yourself into.” I slide the white piece of paper over to him, and he looks up at me again with questioning eyes. “I was wondering if you would read the letter from him first and tell me if you think it’s okay for me to read, that it won’t set me back in how I’ve dealt with the past. I don’t expect it to be bad, but I don’t know the man, and if it’s filled with anger and blame, I don’t need that right now.”

“You sure?” John’s voice is quiet now, serious.

I nod my head, and he picks up the letter.

As he reads it over the next couple of minutes, I try not to watch him, not wanting to see changes in his expression that might tip me off about the tone of the letter. When he’s done, he folds it back up and slides it across the table to me. He’s wearing a somber look on his face.

“I don’t think there’s anything in there that will set you back. Some of it may actually help you if you still have some healing to do. But having said that, I want to reiterate that it’s okay no matter what you decide, Troy. You can take it and read it, or you can toss it in the trash on our way out of here, and that’s okay.”

“Thank you,” I whisper.

We spend another forty-five minutes at the diner and when it’s time to leave, he gives me another hug, patting me on the back.

My biological father may have left me when I was only ten, but I can honestly say that for the last eighteen years, I couldn’t have asked for a better man to step into that role for me. John Donley didn’t have to treat me like a son, but he always has.

CHAPTER26

SHANNON

“I hate your guts,” I hiss at Shyley. My legs are like jelly, but not regular jelly. Jelly that’s on fire and screaming for help.

Tillie chuckles from the other side of Shyley. “I’m with you, Shannon. How did I let myself get talked into a spin class?”

Meanwhile, Shyley cycles along like she belongs on the Tour de France, and if looks could kill, I’d be decimating her with mine right now. She swore to me that the class was fun and would help relieve my stress. That it wasn’t “that hard.”

That’s how she talked me into it, and I talked Tillie into it by promising her we would go to Enzo’s for pizza afterward. She’s never been this far into Elladine and wanted to try Enzo’s since it has a great reputation even in her small town neighboring us.

Seven minutes and thirty-six seconds later, the class finally ends. Yes, I’ve been counting the minutes because I’m ready to die on this cycle of torture. We dismount our bikes and spray down the equipment like Shyley tells us we’re supposed to, grab our towels, and head over to a corner where she says we have to stretch.

Tillie and I flop ungracefully onto the ground and lay there. I’m fully planning on lying here and not doing a damn thing Shyley says if it requires moving my body. Unfortunately, my sister’s an excellent nag, and she finally convinces me to do the bendy things with my legs she’s showing me.

“I know I just met you, and I still hate you, but this stretch does feel good,” Tillie groans.

“Told you.” Shyley smiles as she looks over at Tillie and me in our full stretch modes.

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