“Our vacations will have to be kid friendly,” he says, sipping his tea. “Lots of Disney World and Beach resorts, I imagine.”
I balk. He has to be kidding. Sam notices my expression and has to stifle a laugh.
I look at Caleb in alarm. “I burn in the sun,” I blurt.
He smiles crookedly. “What? Did you think we’d be taking on Paris and Tuscany with a little girl?”
I nod.
“They need things too, Leah. It’s fine if we expose her to the world, but little people need Disney World and sandcastles. Don’t you have those memories from when you were little?”
I don’t. My school took us to Disney my junior year. I got really drunk with a couple of guys the night before and had a hangover the whole next day at the park. I don’t tell Caleb this.
“I guess,” I say noncommittally. This traditional thing was really beginning to suck.
“What if she likes Paris?” I ask hopefully. “Then can we go?”
He stands up, kisses the top of my head. “Yes. Right after we give her a childhood.”
“So while she’s still little, can we go somewhere good? It’s not like she’s going to care about Minnie Mouse just yet.”
“We are probably not going on vacation this year. She’s too little to leave or to take anywhere.” I watch incredulously as he picks up his cell phone. Did he just confiscate my vacation?
“That’s ridiculous,” I announce, licking my spoon clean of oatmeal. “Plenty of people have babies and go on vacation.”
“There are things you have to give up when you have a family, Red. Are you just figuring this out?”
“Let’s give up red meat … music … electricity! Just not vacation.”
Sam drops the armful of laundry he’s holding. I can see his back shaking with laughter as he bends to pick it up.
Caleb is ignoring me, scrolling through his phone.
All the men in my life treat me like I’m a joke.
“I’m going on vacation,” I announce to both of them. Caleb looks up and raises an eyebrow.
“What are you saying, Leah?”
He is goading me. I don’t know why I take the bait.
“I’m saying that with or without you, I’m going.”
I march out of the room so I don’t have to see his expression. Why do I feel like a ten-year-old? No, there is nothing wrong with me. It’s him. He doesn’t want me for who I am. He wants to make me someone else. This is a game Caleb and I have been playing for years. He gives me a standard by which to live, I fail.
He follows me.
“What are you doing?” He grabs me by the arm as I try to walk away.
“You’re trying to control me.”
“The idea of a controlled Leah bores me, I assure you. However, being part of a family means making decisions as a unit.”
“Oh please,” I spit at him, “let’s not pretend anyone but you is making the decisions.”
I pull my arm away. “I’m tired of the dog and pony show I always have to put on for you.”
I am at the stairs when I hear him say, “Well, there you have it.”
I don’t look back.
Upstairs, I pull out the street painting Courtney brought me from her trip to Europe. I keep it wrapped in wax paper in a box. I touch the red umbrella with my fingertip. Courtney said that I was her red umbrella. When she was in turmoil, all she had to do was come stand near me and I’d keep the bad stuff off of her. It wasn’t true. I failed Courtney, I failed my father, and I was in the process of failing Caleb.
I shove it back in the box and swipe at the tears that are coming down my cheeks. I hear Estella cry out as she wakes up from her nap. I gather my emotions, take a deep breath and go to her.
Chapter Fourteen
Past
We fought the day of his accident. Can you imagine? Your boyfriend almost dies, and hours before, you tell him that you want to break up. I didn’t mean it. It was a 'shit or get off the pot' statement: a cruel attempt at strong-arming him into marriage. Except, you can’t give Caleb Drake an ultimatum. I could see his face in my mind as the words left my mouth; eyebrows up, his jaw clenching like a fist. The day before he left on his business trip to Scranton, we fought about the same topic. I wanted a goddamn ring. Caleb wanted to make sure mine was the right finger to put it on.
Then the call came. I was at work when Luca’s refined voice came onto the line. Luca and I had a floating relationship; sometimes things were great between us, sometimes I wanted to pour kerosene over her head and strike a match. She was saying words like hospital and memory loss. I didn’t get it until she said, “Leah, are you listening to me? Caleb is in the hospital! He doesn’t know his own name!”
“The hospital?” I repeated. Caleb was supposed to be ring shopping for me.
“An accident, Leah,” she repeated. “We’re flying out in the morning.”
As soon as I hung up with Luca, I started looking for flights. If I left now, I’d be there before midnight. She was flying up with Steve, Caleb’s stepfather, in the morning. I wanted to be there first. I needed to look into his eyes and make him remember me. My father strolled into my office, a stack of papers in his hands. My mouse hovered over the purchase button. He was forever needing me to sign things.
“What are you doing?” He looked at me over the rim of his glasses.
“Caleb’s been in an accident,” I said. “He has a concussion, and he doesn’t know who he is.”
“You can’t leave,” he said matter-of-factly. “We’re in the middle of our trial run. I need you here.”
He dropped the papers on my desk and strode toward the door. I blinked at his back, unclear if he’d heard me.
“Daddy?”
He paused in the door, his back still to me. This was how most of our relationship was — me talking to his back, or his bent head, or his newspaper.
“Caleb needs me, I’m going.” I clicked purchase on the ticket and stood up to gather my things.
I didn’t look at him as I walked to the door, where he was most definitely frozen in place, glaring at me.
“Johanna — ”
“Don’t call me that. My name is Leah.”
I pushed past him, the force of my body knocking him into the doorframe. I looked braver than I felt — I was good at that. Did I just defy my father — the man whose love I was forever trying to win, earn … deserve? It took every bit of métier I possessed not to turn around and assess his anger. I knew that if I looked at him I would go running back, scrounging for the crumbs of his affection like a dog. He was furious … boiling. Walk, walk, walk — I told myself. Caleb needed me. He was the good that I owned, and I was not going to let him forget me. What did this job matter? What did my father matter? I needed Caleb more than both of them.