With each story he tells, I remember more and more of the bad, and I begin to get anxious and frustrated.
There’s something about the way he describes each photo. I can hear the smile in his voice, and that makes me angry because he’s making our childhood out to be something it wasn’t.
Adley is sitting there taking it all in, laughing and chatting with the man I’ve spent most of my life hating, and that pisses me off too.
I need to get out of here before I do or say something to make a scene.
Tightening the last bolt, I slide out from under the sink. Yanking my tool belt off, I toss it on the table and check the faucet. Confident the leak is fixed, I wash my hands, pull my keys from my pocket, and walk into the living room.
Adley is flipping through a stack of photos, and when Dad hands her another one, she grabs it and adds it to a pile on the armrest next to her.
They’re interacting as though they’ve known each other for years, and that only fuels my frustration. I wanted her to meet the guy, not fall in love with him. Because this is a façade. Eventually he’ll fall apart again, the way he always does, and I’ll be left to pick up the pieces.
And even if he doesn’t, he can’t change what’s happened in the past.
“Let’s go,” I announce.
Dad looks up, but Adley doesn’t. She continues flipping through the stack.
“Adley.”
“One sec,” she says, still not looking up.
“No. Not one sec. Now.” I take three steps, pull the photos from her hands, and drop them on the table. “I’m ready to go.”
I’m being a dick, but I want out of this house and away from my father.
Adley narrows her eyes, but stands up.
“Don’t forget your pictures.” Dad grabs the small stack of photos she had sitting beside her.
“Thank you,” she says. “And thank you for letting me go through all of this with you. It was fun hearing some of the stories from Lincoln’s childhood.”
Oh, fuck me.
I spin around and head for the door.
Dad sighs. “He didn’t have the best childhood. I’m trying to focus on the good memories rather than the bad ones. If I let myself dwell on the bad ones, I’ll end up with more regrets than I already have.”
“Keep working on that, Dad,” I say, yanking open the door. “Let’s go.”
Adley follows me to the truck, and once we’re buckled in, she turns to me.
“Why are you being such a dick?”
“Why are you acting all chummy with my father?”
Her jaw drops. “What did you want me to do? Yell at him and tell him I think he’s a piece of shit and doesn’t deserve you? Because that’s what I wanted to say. But I was trying to be nice.”
“Well, next time don’t try so hard.”
“Is that why you’re pissed? Because I was nice to your father?”
“No. Fuck.” I push my fingers into my hair and drop my head back against the rest. “I’m pissed because the man you met in there isn’t the same guy I’ve been dealing with for years. He’s different. I don’t know what the fuck is going on with him, but—”
“He’s trying to change,” Adley says softly.
“He can’t,” I shout. “He can’t fucking change. Do you know how many times he’s stopped drinking?” I close my eyes for a moment. “More than I can count. And every goddamn time, he eventually gives in. This time is no different. He can get out the photos and smile about the few good times we had, but he can’t change who he was.”