Page 71 of Driving Me Mad (Sanity 1)

I wince. “She’s not a young’un, and yes, I’m still with her. Faith had to get rid of Lily because she was moving in with her boyfriend who has a daughter with allergies.” Maybe he’ll finally let it go if I tell him that Faith is happy and with someone now.

He tsks and I can practically see him shaking his head in disappointment. “You sure messed up with that one.”

“Well, it’s over and done with. How are you and Amy?” I don’t have the patience to hear him berate me for a failed marriage that ended years ago.

“We’re good. A little upset that you can find the time to go to Las Vegas, but can’t visit us, but we’re good.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose. Something in me just snaps. “Maybe if you’d get off my fucking back and quit being condescending and irritating every damn time I talked to you, you’d hear and see me more often. While we’re at it, Faith has moved on. I’ve moved on. We’re as over as can be. Let it go! Is that really too much to ask?”

“Trace!”

I ignore Brittany and wait for my father to say something. There’s only silence on the other end. I’m not taking it back, I’m not apologizing, so I sure as hell hope he isn’t waiting for that.

“Fine,” he eventually says. “I’ll make this easy for you. If you want to talk, you can call. Otherwise, I won’t bother you.” He hangs up without another word.

I pull the phone away from my ear and stare at it in disbelief.

“Aren’t you going to call back?” Brittany asks softly, gathering that he hung up.

“No.” I toss it onto the couch. “I’ll save that for another day. Breakfast ready?”

She wants to say more, but instead, she nods. I’m not hungry, but I get up to eat anyway. Just another day of going through the motions.

Somehow, seeing Brittany standing next to her parents, holding her wrist, and searching for me relaxes me. She relaxes a little in turn when she sees me walking toward them, her lips breaking out into a smile. I’m surprised, though, when she walks briskly over to me. Her arms slip around my waist.

“Hey,” I laugh.

Her eyes seem bright from the nearby lights of the restaurant. “Hey. You’re here.”

“Did you think I wasn’t coming?”

“No, but I’ve still been waiting to see you. C’mon.” She grabs my hand and leads me over to her parents. “Mom, Dad, you remember Trace.”

I stick my hand out to shake their hands. “Nice to see you again, Mr. and Mrs. Roberts.” Her dad’s handshake seems more firm than I remember.

“Please call us Jane and Ray,” her mother says, and I nod.

“Well, let’s go inside,” Ray says. He holds the door open for everyone and it feels weird to step inside before him. Manners dictate I should be last.

We don’t have to wait long for a table. As we get settled in our seats, Jane says, “Can you believe after all the times we’ve had to hear about the fried pickles at this place, Brittany has never brought us here?”

I chuckle. “No, I can’t.”

“It’s true. How have you been doing, Trace? Are you enjoying your new position?” she asks.

“Yes, ma’am. I really like it, and I like living here so far. It was a good decision to move.”

“That’s good to hear.”

The waiter stops by to take our drink orders. Ray has been staring me down, and I won’t lie. I want to fidget in my seat. Who cares if I have nearly a foot on him height-wise. He’s the father of my girlfriend and he’s doing a damn good job of intimidating me.

“Can you tell me why you’re good for my daughter?” he asks as soon as the waiter leaves.

“Dad!” Brittany gasps.

He holds up a hand to stop more of her protests. “Let’s just get it out of the way,” he tells her before landing his gaze on me again. “We do like what we know about you, Trace. We’re still cautious about some things, but only because we’re thinking of our daughter. We know that we didn’t have a clue about what was happening with Brittany, and at times, had a difficult time understanding it, even now. Brittany told us that you deal with some of the same things. Our main concern has been how your bad times will affect our daughter and her mental health. That’s all I want you to explain to me.”

The words to respond to him seem to appear out of nowhere. “When your wife comes home after a rough day, how much does that affect your relationship when you’ve also had a rough day?” I don’t wait for an answer. “Maybe we’re a little more fragile and complicated, but it’s basically the same thing. Your worry is understandable, because I’ve worried about it too. What I’ve come to realize is maybe we get carried away in the heat of the moment, but I don’t make it worse for her and she doesn’t make it worse for me. Having her there helps, even if we can’t manage to help each other by doing more than just being there.”

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