Page 57 of Merciless

“Are you asking or mom?”

That gave her pause. She just blinked at me. Dad entered the room, ushered us to set the table and eat like a family.

The dinner was silent if we didn’t count some sports talk from dad and Tyler. By the desert Madison couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Can we talk about the living arrangements for mom and Clem?”

“Yes, of course. We can discuss everything you feel we need to,” dad supplied reluctantly.

“Why do you care?” I intervened. “You live in New York and, a lot of the time, you’re not even in the States.”

“So?” Madison frowned at me. “I’m allowed to have an opinion. I think you should live separately. Mom needs calm environment, or she’ll start drinking again.”

My head snapped up from my plate. I stared at her beautiful face.

“Are you saying I’m the reason she had been drinking?”

“Of course not,” Madison said and sounded sincere. “But you’re pushing each other’s buttons. And let’s be frank here. You told noone she was drinking.”

“Maddie,” dad warned.

“Okay, fine. All I’m saying is she’s eighteen now, and she can be on her own.”

Okay. That sounded better and in my favor. And it also saved me the effort to start this conversation with my father on my own. A gratitude towards Madison started to spread in my chest. Then she spoke again.

“Maybe you could rent Clem an apartment somewhere. I think mom should stay in the house.”

“I don’t think now is the best time to decide anything, Madison,” dad’s voice suggested he wasn’t enjoying this exchange. “Actually, I wanted to talk with Clem in private.”

He pointed with his thumb behind his back to his home office. I stood up and followed him.

The room wasn’t as spacious as all the others, but it was cozy. We sat down, and he took a pencil from his desk. He played with it while he talked.

“I think this conversation is long overdue. There is something that came up during your mother’s therapy. I always thought we could just skip that and never talk about it. That it would just disappear with the years, but it didn’t. Your mother’s therapist thinks we both have to tell you our side of the story. I guess your mother will do it when she comes back next month.”

“Okay. What story is that?”

He scratched the back of his head and avoided looking at me.

“Remember how your mother sometimes joked around about you being an unplanned pregnancy?”

“I know she wasn’t joking if that’s what you’re trying to explain,” I said a little bit too rude.

“No, that’s not it,” he tapped his leg with the pencil. “Your mother thinks your bad relationship is partly my fault. She was so tired and overwhelmed when we found out she was pregnant with you. She wanted to…,” he paused trying to find the right words.

“To terminate the pregnancy,” I offered.

“I pushed her not to. I don’t regret it,” he quickly assured me. “I love you, and I can’t imagine not having you, but if we look from your mother’s perspective back then…”

“It was wrong of you to pressure her,” my voice was almost a whisper.

Dad threw his pencil back on his desk and took my hands in his.

“That’s why I’ve been so soft with you over the years. I felt guilty that your mother was so cold and demanding. I think she punished me through you. I wanted to give you enough love for the two of us, since she wasn’t able to do it. But she loves you. I’m sure she does.”

“Yeah, right,” I snorted. Dad grabbed my head between his palms and made me look at him. His eyes were full of tears.

“She loves you. We all love you. But I think your mother’s right. I did widen the gap between you two. You saw me as the good parent, and you demonized her more than she deserved. Which made her even more harsh. It was a vicious circle. It’s not your fault. You were just a kid. We should have known better.”

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