Page 77 of This Life and All the Rest
“I’ve missed you, Lennon,” he says, then winces. “I’m sorry.Capri.”
My heart cracks a little, and I’m surprised at how disappointed I feel at hearing my middle name from him. It’s never bothered me before. Ever since I decided to drop Lennon, I’ve felt empowered when anyone said it. Emboldened. Stronger.
But now, in this hospital room, hearing it from my father’s hoarse voice?
I just feel sad.
“You can call me Lennon, Dad,” I say softly. “Sam does.”
He chuckles.
“That doesn’t surprise me,” he says, and I laugh.
Dad’s liked Sam ever since he heard how she flew out to England and stayed with me at Aunt Becca’s for the summer. I think it assuaged some of his guilt.
“I’m sorry I haven’t come to visit more,” I tell him honestly. He sighs.
“I could have come to see you too, Len,” he says. “It works both ways.”
I shake my head slowly. That’s a lie.
“No, Dad,” I say. “You and I both know that I wouldn’t let you come. You tried, and I denied you.” I sigh and shrug. “Pretty sure I never even gave you my address.”
He doesn’t respond for a bit, and when he speaks, his voice is stronger than it’s been.
“You’re here now. That’s what matters most.”
I stay with Dad for an hour, filling him in on all the stuff he’s missed. We laugh and we cry, and when I finally get up to leave, I feel like part of my heart has healed.
I hope his has as well, even if just a bit. Even if just in the emotional sense.
“Lennon,” he says, halting me at the door. I turn to him and brace myself for something serious. “I know this will be a big ask. I know it might even seem unfair. But...I think you should talk to Macon.”
My lips purse and my head jerks back.
“What?”
“I think there’s a lot you don’t understand. Maybe you weren’t ready. I don’t know. But now that you’re home, and you two are in the same space, I think you should talk to him.”
I don’t even bother pointing out that Virginia isn’t home anymore.Parisis home.Parisis where I belong.
But what he’s saying...
He sent me away to keep me from Macon, and now he wants me to talk to him?
“That doesn’t make sense, Dad,” I say. “I know you want a happy family with happy siblings, but that’s just—”
“It’s not about you being siblings, Lennon,” he says clearly. “It never was.”
My confusion makes my defenses rise and my anger spikes.
This doesn’t make sense.
How can he say that when he sent me away because Macon was my stepbrother? How can he say this now, after four years? After everything that I’ve had to deal with, after all the pain and loss and self-doubt and self-harm?
Is it an attempt to assuage his guilt? To atone for things because he almost died?
My heart was shattered…
