Page 65 of The Invitation
I study him and the genuine curiosity on his face. He’s been pretty honest with me today, so this can’t be too much of a trap. Besides, I need to play my part as much as he’s playing his. I promised Sutton I’d do my best to make this a success.
“I’m not really sure what I want, to be honest,” I say, sighing. “I love the idea of having a family. But I’m kind of …”
“Kind of what, Georgia?”
“Kind of not sure what to say. I’m scared to think about it because then I might want it, and if I want it and don’t get it, that’ll hurt. Or what if I do get it, and then it all falls apart, and I turn into my mother?”
Thank God this is a pilot, and she’ll never see this. I wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings.
He folds his hands between his knees. “I understand that, actually.”
“Really?”
“I mean, I wouldn’t say I’m scared.”
“God forbid.”
“But I’m nervous that I don’t quite have what it takes to be a good dad.”
His words fall through the air like dead weight, landing on the ice and slipping away. Regret shifts across his face, and I wonder if he regrets telling me that. If so, that makes me sad—mostly because I suspect he hasn’t really shared this with anyone before and now he’s clamming up on me.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks.
“Sure.”
He gets to his feet and picks up his bag, so I hurry to stand and gather my things, too. We remove our audio packs, and heshoves them hastily into his bag. I’m not sure what caused the sudden change in him, but I scramble to keep up.
We make our way to the exit and step onto the sidewalk. The freedom from the cameras is a relief as the warm air heats my bones. Ripley walks me to my car without saying a word, and I give him space, thinking he’ll eventually talk. But he doesn’t.
I should let it go. I should let this be his problem elsewhere. If he doesn’t want to talk to me, why should I care?
And I don’t care, really. But …
We stop at my car, I toss my things in the back seat, and then I take off his gloves.
“Can I ask you something?” I ask, hesitating. I’m not sure which Ripley I’m going to get, nor do I know if he’ll still be interested in talking to me like he was a moment ago. But I know I can’t go home without trying … both for my curiosity and his well-being.
“Sure.”
I lean my back against my car. “Why would you think you don’t have what it takes to be a good dad? I mean, I might hate you …” I grin at him. “But that’s a personal decision. You seem like a pretty decent guy to the rest of the world.”
He shrugs like it’s no big deal. That’s how I know it’s a big deal.
A shadow crosses his face as he licks his lips. “Someone told me once that I don’t have a lot of value as a person. And while I know that’s bullshit, it lingers in the back of my brain.”
“Who told you that?” I ask, instantly angry.
“My father.”
I touch my lips to keep from gasping. My wide eyes gawk at him. I want to reach out and pull him into me and hug the embarrassment off his handsome face. But I don’t. I hold back. For both of our goods.
“Ripley, fuck that guy,” I say instead. “I mean it.”
He laughs sadly. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. Who says that to someone, let alone their child?”
“It’s okay.”
