Page 103 of Just a Plot Twist
I’m tempted to tell Thomas I can’t. I can say that I have to go home, right? No harm done there. I can say goodbye to Milo and Rose now.
But the heavy buzz churning through Thomas’s psyche compels me to stay. And the nerves among us tell me I’m not the only one who’s dreading this father-son outing.
Sebastian shakes his head. “I’ll stay back with Elianna. She’s been extra tired all day.”
“No way, Sebastian,” Elianna warns before taking another bite of ice cream. “I’m fine. You go on ahead.” She stares at him likeYou can do this.
“I’m not going to take up too much of your time,” Thomas says curtly. We slowly embark, and I think all of us are a little alarmed at his sudden soberness because there is no talking as Thomas deftly maneuvers the powerboat out onto the water. It doesn’t take long to reach the middle of the lake, where Thomas kills the engine. He stands at the bow, his arms folded over his chest, his mouth a straight, mournful line.
“I’ll cut right to the chase,” Thomas says hoarsely.
I glance around at my brothers, all seated, and they’re all mirroring each other, shoulders slumped, arms resting on their knees or across their middles. None of them meets his eye.
“I wanted to do this before Milo left, so naturally, I’ve waited until the last possible moment.” He gives a humorless laugh, and a couple of the guys give a little smile.
He could be trying to say anything, but from the look on his face, it’s nothing good. Does he have bad news? Is he sick? Is Celine sick again?
“Something happened a long time ago, and I imagine there have been some questions in your minds over the years, so I wanted to explain it now.” He clears his throat and tugs on the collar of his polo. “Back before Sebastian started the resort company, I was sued for misconduct by a female employee of Foundations.”
Shock courses through me. I glance around. No one else seems surprised by this. They must already know some of it. I was the only one not around back then.
Thomas is looking down at his shoes. “She sued me because of the emotional distress I caused her in the workplace.” He raises his head and looks us in the eyes. “First of all, to set the record straight, it wasn’t sexual in nature in any way, shape, or form, and when she sued, I paid the woman everything she asked for because she was right. I was calloused with her. Rude. Far more demanding than I should have been. Because she was a subordinate, she was an easy target and, in my stupidity and to my horror as I think back on it now, I took my frustrations out on her. I belittled her, sometimes in public.”
Thomas clears his throat and takes in a deep breath. He lets it out. Then blinks rapidly. “It was wrong. I’ve made an effort ever since then to be a better employer, but I fall short of what I want to be much of the time. I wish I could say I learned my lesson, that I made a complete one-eighty.” He pauses to give a tortured smile. “But I didn’t.” His bottom jaw slidesback and forth, the tension practically vibrating off him. “What could have been a wakeup call wasn’t. Sure, I didn’t treat my employees like garbage anymore, but I still wasn’t a good boss. I still worked far too much and placed too many impossible expectations on myself, my company, and my family.”
He scrubs his face and then rests his hands on his hips, shifting in his stance, which causes the boat to rock slightly.
A white index card is folded in his palm. He glances at it. Does he have notes of what he wants to say?
I don’t know why, but knowing this, imagining him like a nervous kid inside a hardened, older man’s body, does something to me.
Aren’t we all nervous kids inside?Iam Thomas Tate. Not in all ways, and honestly, I’m grateful for that.
But, like him, I’m also trying to make up for my mistakes. Aren’t I trying to change, too? Haven’t I done things I needed to ask forgiveness for?
There’s something in his eyes that reminds me of Dax and Indie and with that, my eyes sting. My pulse pumps along a vessel in my throat, throbbing under the heat of the sun.
He squeezes the back of his neck and continues. “The worst part of it was how hard my behaviors were on your mother. My bad attitude, my thoughtless comments, my absence in her life and in your lives? It was a terrible mistake that caused some real hardships on all of you.”
His voice raw, he meets our gazes. I flick mine around the boat—all of us are looking at him now. We’re stone-faced, but maybe beginning to consider letting the light in, too.
“I could have so easily lost your mother,” he continues. “I wouldn’t have blamed her for walking away. Sadly, I didn’t wake up until shortly afterOliver and Sophie’s wedding, when your mother wound up in the hospital with internal bleeding. I blame myself.” His voice is barely above a whisper. “It was how I’d treated the woman I was supposed to love and cherish above all else that caused her to become so sick.”
Gabriel sighs. “We don’t know that you caused it, Dad.”
Thomas squeezes his eyes shut a moment before flashing a look in Gabriel’s direction. It holds a mix of anguish and appreciation for the comment.
He fights for composure. “It took almost losing her for me to realize I can go about my life in a completely different way.” He pinches the top of his nose. “Sons, I want to apologize. Saying I’m sorry isn’t enough. But Iamsorry for the grief and pain I put you through.” His expression hardens and he looks out over the water, the wind stirring the top of his greying hair.
“I’m not asking for forgiveness. That’s too big of an ask. But I want you to know of my great remorse. Please. Give me a chance to make it up to you?” He shoots out a breath, shaking as he pockets the card and wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “Please, boys. Don’t do what I’ve done. Don’t live a life full of regrets. Fix things. Do what needs to be donenow. Treat the women and children in your lives like the precious people they are.”
We’re silent, the only sound the cawing of seagulls in the sky above us.
Except for the first few, rocky months of our relationship, Thomas has been decent to me. I’m sure my brothers have a lot more to say about this than I do.
Still, I’m more connected with every man on this boat now.
I’m glad my father spoke to us like this because it was the right thing to do. Who knows how the others will respond? For my part, I’m going to give him a hug as soon as we’re off the boat. His apology doesn’t erase the past…and my brothers suffered far more than I have. But I can give the guy a hug.
