Page 133 of Damnation
I’m chastened by the sound of my name. My eyes fly open, and I realize immediately that I’ve made yet another stupid mistake. I hang up, furious with myself. How is it possible that, after everything he’s done to me, he’s still the first person I look to when I have a moment of weakness?
I slump down on the bench, absurdly hoping that, at any moment, someone will pinch me and tell me this is all just a bad dream. That none of what I was just told is the truth. But the only person who can do that is my mother. Running my fingers through my hair, I decide to give her a call.
“Vanessa?” She answers after a few rings, sounding skeptical.
“Yes, it’s me, Mom.”
“Vanessa,” she says, stunned to hear from me again after weeks of radio silence. “Oh, thank God. I knew you’d call sooner or later.”
“I didn’t just call for a chat,” I press the palm of my hand to my temple because my head is spinning. “I have a specific reason.”
“Tell me.”
“Do you know where I am?”
“I don’t know… At school, I presume?” she says uncertainly, like she struggling to understand. Then she asks me, “Wait, where are you calling from?”
“I’m in Montana.”
I hear her dry swallow. “W-what?”
“Billings, specifically.”
It’s a few seconds before she responds. “If this is a joke, Vanessa, it is in very poor taste.”
“Oh, I wish I were joking, but I assure you I’m not.”
“Why…why did you go to Billings?”
A few minutes ago, I was still in a state of shock, but now I can feel my anger mounting. She’s still pretending, she’s still messing with me. “You really can’t think of a reason?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I talked to Dad,” I declare, deciding to put an end to this farce. “Or at least, to the person I thought was my father.”
“Come home right now,” she orders a few seconds later. “Do you hear me, Vanessa? Come home,” she repeats decisively.
I stare stiffly out into space, my fingers tightly grasping the phone. It’s true. It’s all true. She’s been guilty all along. She’s been screwing with me all these years. She let me build up all this hatred for my father; she led me to believe a completely incorrect version of the situation. She talked badly about him and took advantage of his absence right up until the end. She manipulated all of us like puppets for her own ends.
A wave of anger swamps me. I spit in a low voice, “You and I are done.” I pause before adding, “Forever.”
“Vanes—” she begins, but it’s too late. I’m hanging up. I call an Uber instead and hurry over to the ranch to get my bag. I’m so blind with rage that I don’t care about anyone anymore: my mother, who keeps blowing up my phone, my father, who comes to Ralph’s and begs me desperately to let him drive me instead of taking another Uber. Ishoohim away aggressively.
I don’t know how to deal with a single word of what I’ve been told. But I know that I’m going to have to. I’ll have to find the strength.
He’s not my father.
So who is my father?
Where is he?
Why didn’t he acknowledge me as his daughter?
Did he ever try to find me?
Is he…alive?
I feel like I’m losing my mind. I put my bag over my shoulder and leave a note on the bedside table thanking Ralph for the hospitality. Shortly thereafter, I’m back at the airport. Yesterday, I was so afraid and uncertain about the idea of seeing my father again, and today I just feel…lost.
