When We Were Wildflowers

Chapter 28 - The Unexpected

Dad's new apartment is beyond depressing. When he opens the door and ushers Teddy and I inside on Saturday afternoon, it takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the dark, gloomy space. Blank gray walls, shaggy gray carpet and (no surprise) a gray second-hand sectional make it basically the most boring room I've ever seen. There's not a cheerful splash of color or the odd throw pillow in sight.

"I'm going for the spartan look," Dad teases but the joke lands flat. "It's got two bedrooms, one for me and one for you kids to share. Don't worry it's only temporary until your mom and I get things sorted out."

My heart leaps with hope when Dad alludes to he and Mom sorting things out, like there's a possibility they could reconcile and we could go back to the way things were, but then logic kicks, stomping on my tender emotions. He means the divorce. Suddenly, my heart plummets into my stomach and I want to barf.

"It looks nice, Dad." Teddy is obviously lying because his face has gone pale and he's cowering in discomfort behind crossed arms.

I'm not one to hide my feelings (well, not anymore), so I groan. "I hate it."

Dad gives a slow nod, then continues his tour with more pathetic jokes, but after he shows us the bedrooms and bathrooms, he looks at me with a such sorrowful eyes that I instantly regret my nasty remark. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. This is not the situation I wanted for us, but when Mom asked me to leave, I had to make the best of it, and I'm trying. I really am."

His comment knocks me into the wall and the air in my lungs goes sputtering out. "What? She asked you to leave? You didn't want to go?"

Dad shakes his head emphatically. "No, Violet. I begged her to work things out. I wanted us to continue being a family. I know I made a huge, terrible mistake, but I wanted to spend the rest of my life making it right. It's over with me and my coworker."

No, it can't be true. Mom told him to move out? Suddenly I am questioning if there is more than one villain in this story.

The tiny gray and white bathroom spins and I steady myself with both hands against the countertop. Hot, angry tears blur my reflection in the mirror. Once again that twisted, thorny vine is tearing through my heart and reaching out in all directions—part in shadow, part in the light—and a crazy mix of emotions pours down like rain, both nourishing and destructive.

"So you didn't want to leave us? You wanted to fix things? And Mom said no?"

Dad just nods and carefully reaches out to pat my back. "I'm so sorry, kiddo. Please don't me mad at her, okay? She's doing what she needs to do to move on with her life. It's really complicated."

Complicated. I freaking hate that word.

An hour later, we are eating pizza and chicken wings at Dad's wobbly kitchen table while a college football game blares in the background.

"Do you know where I can get a job?" I ask offhand.

"Oh, not this again," Teddy mutters.

Dad's puzzled eyebrows raise, forming deep creases in his forehead. "Why would you want to get a job? You're only 13."

"They've got this crazy idea," Teddy answers.

I shush him. "It's not crazy, it's brilliant. See, Poppy is my best friend and since I'm moving to Chicago in a few weeks, we had the great idea to make a bucket list of teenage milestones to cross off while we still can."

Dad's gaze falls to his half-eaten take out and his pushes the plate away like he just lost his appetite. "Oh, sweetie."

"So where can two 13-year old girls get a first job?" I ask again. "Don't say babysitting."