Page 30 of Daddy's Best Friend

“Stop, Alan. You have to go. He will find out.” Ella pushed me away again, this time harder. I let her go so as not to hurt her, but the minute she stopped fighting, I pulled her into my arms and cradled her head as she sobbed.

“Let him find out. I don’t care.”

She cried for a few minutes letting me hold her, and when she calmed, I guided her to the bed, and we sat on the edge. I held her hands and spoke softly. “He told me, Ella. I know about the baby.”

She cried again, the low mournful cry of an utterly broken heart. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I’m so sorry. It is all my fault. I ruined everything. God, I love you so much and I just ruined it. I didn’t mean for this to happen, and I don't know how to fix it. I can’t kill my baby. Alan, please don’t make me do that.”

“Hey, hey…” I wrapped my arms around her again and kissed her forehead. “We’re not killing our baby, okay? And you didn’t ruin anything, Ella. You were afraid and I failed you. From the moment I made that promise to your father—to help you and protect you—that’s all I wanted to do. I didn’t realize I would make the choices I did.”

“You only wanted sex.” She sobbed loudly, and then buried her face in my chest. The next few sentences came out very muffled, but I understood her. “You only wanted sex and I didn’t. I fell in love. I wanted you. I wanted more, so much more. And now I’ve ruined it all.”

I grabbed her by the shoulders and held her back, shaking her gently. “Listen to me. You did not ruin anything. Okay? I ruined it. I fell in love with you, and I wrestled with the guilt of breaking that promise to your father. I am the one at fault. Don’t you dare blame yourself again. I made the choice to have sex with you, and I made the choice to not use a condom.” I kissed her forehead and held her again. “I love you, Ella. And we’re going to make this work.”

She cried a bit longer, and let me hold her, no longer fighting me. I could only imagine the pain she’d been in this entire week. It made sense now, her disappearance and the mysterious illness. She had been so humiliated and ashamed, she ran. Not because of how I’d react to her news, but because of how she had been conditioned to behave because her father was overbearing. She was afraid I would react like him.

“Listen to me. There is no sense in dragging this out longer. Trevor doesn’t need his name smeared through the media or even just the gossip channels. Okay? I know you probably let them believe that to protect me, but it’s time I do the right thing. I should have done this a long time ago.” I stood and kissed her forehead one more time.

“I have a feeling your father is not going to be happy about this, so you might want to pack a bag to leave with me. I’ll handle everything, and we will give him time to cool down. Alright?”

Ella nodded but said nothing as I walked to the door. If walking to the front door had been the gauntlet, walking back to Todd’s office was like walking to my execution.

23

ELLA

Isat on the edge of my bed crying for a few minutes, not knowing how Alan was going to do with my father. He was right though; I needed to pack a bag. Even if my father surprised us all in a miraculous epiphany that I was an adult and could make my own choices, I didn’t want to stay here.

The shock of hearing Alan tell me he loved me was still settling over me as with trembling hands I stuffed clothing into a suitcase. He had never let on his true emotions, though at times I felt like he cared for me more than just as a friend—or a father figure. I’d been left to myself to draw my own conclusions and the conclusion I’d drawn was that Alan was no different than any other man; he wanted sex. Except, he’d promised my father to keep an eye on me, so he kept that promise too.

So when he came into my room to confront me, I’d expected something totally different, a whirlwind of anger and contempt. What I’d gotten was the exact opposite. It felt like this was all some fairy tale dream and I was the heroine being rescued. Only, I didn’t want to have to be rescued. I wanted my father to understand my side of things, and how love just happened.

After I shoved as much into that suitcase as was humanly possible, I knelt on top of it and zipped the zipper, barely able to get the thing shut. Then I hefted it to the door. I also filled my pillowcase with tchotchkes and sex toys, because not only did I enjoy playing with them, but I didn’t want them left in my room for my father to see if he threw all my stuff on the front lawn for the trash man.

When I had a backpack filled with some sentimental things and my other things situated by the door, I stepped into the hall quietly. I heard yelling coming from the other end of the house. Dad was enraged. I understood why. We’d kept the secret we should have divulged from the beginning. It would have been better for both of us.

So I walked that direction, trying to hear what was being said. As I passed the stairs, Mom met me, descending to the first floor with wide eyes. She was white as a ghost, her hands shaking as she clung to my arm.

“What’s going on?”

“Dad… Alan…” I couldn’t confess anymore right now. The situation was bad enough as it was. She’d hear it in a few minutes anyway. This 20-second walk with my arm wrapped in her embrace might be the last physical connection I got with her for a while. Mom nodded and we continued.

By the time we got to his office door, both of them were screaming. I heard something smash like it was thrown or dropped, and I pushed the door open. Dad stood, red-faced and heaving, facing Alan. The bottle of whiskey ran down the wall, glass shattered on the floor near it. Alan held his hands out in a calming gesture, but there was no calming that raging bull.

“Todd, listen to me.”

“Listen to you? Listen to you! I trusted you! You are my best friend and I trusted you!” Dad took his arm and swept the files off of his desk onto the floor, then pounded his fist onto the top of the desk. “I trusted you, goddammit. Cried to you. Begged you to help.”

“Todd, you don’t understand.”

Mom’s fingernails clawed my arm. “What’s going on? What are you fighting about?” Her reluctant steps dragged me forward, and she hugged me to her side like a security blanket.

“I’ll tell you what we’re fighting about. Alan here has something to confess.” If it were possible, Dad’s face got redder the more he spoke. “Tell her, Alan. Tell Elaine what you did.”

Alan looked back at me and Mom, his face sorrowful and apologetic. He opened his mouth to speak but drew his hand across it instead. I turned to face Mom, wanting to ease his pain and stop this madness, but I didn’t have words either.

“No…” Mom shook her head, her eyes bouncing between my face, Dad’s, and Alan’s. “No, you didn’t.”

Mom wrapped an arm around my waist and stepped back as if Alan had just confessed, he had Ebola or something.

---