Page 173 of The Young & the Sinner

Olivia

I didn’t even knowwhat I was doing here.

I realized I could be setting myself up for a world of hurt later… and I didn’t tell Max where I was going.

This was a stupid idea.

So why couldn’t I bring myself to turn around, get in my car and drive home? He hadn’t seen me yet, so it wasn’t like I couldn’t get out of this.

I slowed my steps as I neared the front door of the small local coffee shop, watching my dad through the glass window.

He was sitting in a booth, a cup of coffee in front of him. I knew he was drinking black coffee with one cube of sugar. No more, and no less. Even after all these years, I still remembered the most mundane things about him. Like how he liked to hum a Beatles song in the morning while he shaved, or how he didn’t eat breakfast, just drank coffee, but that his favorite snack was Lucky Charms cereal without milk, and he could eat it at any time of day.

Did he remember anything about me? Did he remember my habits? I didn’t know.

The bell chimed when I entered, and Dad looked up at me. He stood when I walked toward him.

He smiled, but his eyes were hesitant, and I could tell by the way he was rubbing his palm across his thigh that he was nervous. Why was he nervous?

“Hi,” I said, proud of how steady my voice sounded.

“Hi, sweetheart. I, uh, got you a drink. Max said you liked sweets, so I ordered a caramel macchiato. I hope that’s okay.”

I didn’t know what surprised me more, the fact that he seemed to be making an effort to get me to like him, or the fact that he had talked to Max.

How come Max never told me he was in contact with my dad? Did that also mean Max knew where my mom was?

I nodded and took a seat across from him. Dad sat down and fiddled with his cup nervously. I took a sip of my drink. “Thank you. This is perfect.”

He smiled wide, showing a mouthful of straight white teeth. I realized then that I’d also inherited his smile along with every other feature, save for my brown eyes.

It was a nice smile. It was open and friendly. It was one of those smiles most people trusted.

For once, I didn’t hate the fact that I looked like him.

When he left six years ago, I had resented every feature I’d gotten from him, and I resented the brown eyes I got from my mom. I had wanted nothing more than to look like some distant relative or, if I could, I would have made it so that Max was my real dad and I looked like him.

Now I was glad I wasn’t related to Max.

“Why did you want to see me? Why decide to call me now? I mean, after all these years, why now?”

He looked down at his coffee cup, hiding his eyes from me, but I caught the shame in them. I looked away, uncomfortable. I had convinced myself that I hated him, but I didn’t.

I didn’t know what I felt toward him. Love? Indifference? And which was worse, to love a dad who left, or to be indifferent to the man who gave you life?

“I didn’t mean to disrupt your life. I know things are going great for you now.” He looked up and smiled again. My heart pinched. “I heard you’re attending the University of Chicago. I can’t tell you how I proud I am of you for getting that far. You know, I went there myself.”

That was right. I had almost forgotten. Max and Mason weren’t the only alumni of U of C. My dad went there when I was five. He took mostly online courses, but he graduated a little over five years after that with a degree in risk management.

When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “I wanted to contact you so many times.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I needed a clean break from your mother. If I continued to show up in your life… in her life, we would have never gotten away from each other. Your mom has this way about her… always reeling people in, even when they didn’t want to be.”

I shook my head, bitterness making my eyes burn. “Yeah? Well, you didn’t just get a clean break from her. You got one from me, too.”

“Baby, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I abandoned you.”

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