Page 95 of Ruby Mercy

“Partially, maybe. But you have your own selfish motives for being here. That’s fine, by the way. I don’t care why you’re here. I’m just glad you are.”

“Gee, thanks,” I mumble.

“I’ll stop being glad if you’re going to waltz in and try to unpack all of your drama with Dad while he’s on his deathbed, though.”

“That’s not why I’m here!”

She holds up her hands in surrender. “Good. Because you had your whole life to deal with that shit. Bringing it up now when there’s nothing Dad can do about any of it would not be cool. It’s too late.”

I turn back to the sink and try to get lost in scrubbing the dishes. Having something to do with my hands usually keeps my mouth from running overtime. The longer Lana stands next to me, though, the more I stew.

Finally, I can’t hold it back.

“It’s not too late.”

“What?” she asks.

“To talk to Dad. It’s not too late. I mean, he isn’t dead yet.”

“Do you hear yourself right now, Rayne?”

I turn to her, soapy water sloshing onto the countertop. “Do you hear yourself? You’re telling me that I should just live the rest of my life with these unanswered questions inside of me so Dad can die in peace. What about me? When are my feelings going to matter?”

Her brow creases, and I realize how much Lana looks like Mom. When she was married to Mitchell and going in for her regularly scheduled Botox and facials, I didn’t notice as much. Now that her face is wrinkling in the natural way it was meant to, she shares Mom’s communicative forehead, wrinkles and all. In a way, it’s a comforting sight. Part of her is still alive in her daughters. Like she’s not all the way gone just yet.

“What does that mean?”

“Dad did what was best for him when he left Mom and moved away, but what about me?” I ask. “I grew up without a dad.”

“You had a dad. Lots of kids have dads that don’t live with them. It’s not that tragic.”

I jab a finger in her direction. “You don’t have any idea what it was like because you had a relationship with him. He left before I could even remember him. Birthday cards and short phone calls aren’t the same as having him in the house the way you did.”

She shrugs her shoulders roughly. “Blame Mom then!”

“I do!” I snap. “She fucked everything up between them by cheating. I get that. But my question is, why didn’t Dad try harder to see me?”

She leans in closer. I can hear Dad and Pat playing with the kids in the other room. I don’t want our voices to carry any more than Lana does, but I’m not going to sit on my hands and pretend this isn’t going on anymore.

“You didn’t want to talk to him, Rayne. You refused to go on visits. You refused—”

“When I was a teenager,” I interrupt. “That all happened when I was a teenager because I hardly knew him. I didn’t want to spend my summer break with a man I didn’t know. Where was he when I was a little kid?”

She stumbles and fumbles over an explanation she doesn’t have. “I’m sure he tried to get in touch.”

“A good dad would do anything to be with their kid.” Against my permission, Kirill’s face flashes in my mind. He has only known about Yuliana for twenty-four hours and he has sworn to remain in her life. Before I switched my phone off, he called ten times. “The fact is that Dad preferred you and Alexis… and I don’t know why.”

Lana inhales sharply like she’s going to try to defend Dad. Then, all at once, she sags against the counter. “I don’t know, either.”

I snap my head in her direction. “You’re agreeing with me?”

“I guess,” she shrugs. “Maybe this is how all families are. I mean, it’s not like Mom and I ever saw eye to eye. She always adored you, but even before she cheated on Dad, the two of us were at each other’s throats.”

“I didn’t know that. I thought it was all about the divorce.”

She shakes her head. “No, it was most of my life. I never understood Mom’s decisions.”

“What do you mean?”