Hate to Say I Told You So

Chapter Ninteen

Ever since my dad had left, or well, more of gotten kicked out, my mom seemed much happier. When she acted busy, she wasn't acting anymore. She had gotten a promotion to manager at the store she worked at, and still tried to have breakfast with Finn and me, and have us eat dinner together as well, though we always rushed in the morning.

"Isa, your dad called the house again last night while you were with Ross, Collin and Heather. He said that he had tried to call your cell, but it went straight to voicemail." Oh the wonders of the figurative "F you" button.

"Yeah it, um, ran out of battery last night. I'll call him later." I lied. Ever since he had moved out, my dad called me a lot. I assumed it fell under part of his counseling, but I would believe that he had given up drinking when he saw it. Not even the most obvious of signs seemed visible to all.

Part of me felt glad he wanted to reach out to me, but another part wished he would just let me go at my own pace. You can't expect five years of neglect to be able to just melt after one phone call.

Ross showed up that morning with cups from the Corner Café in his hand.

"Sorry, it's just plain coffee today." He said handing me one of the cups and clasping our empty hands together. All weirdness from a few nights ago had disappeared. "Are you okay Belle?" Ross ran a thumb over my knuckle in the way I liked.

"Yeah, it's just my dad keeps calling me and calling me. It's getting annoying."

"Well, do you have any idea what he wants?"

I took a gulp of my coffee, "To tell me how he's changed? That he's different now that he's sober? Sobriety isn't something that my dad can achieve in a matter of weeks."

"How do you know that if you don't talk to him?" Ross' face looked intrigued.

"Ross, drinking has seemed like a constant in my dad's life since I turned eight. I don't have many memories of him when he wasn't drunk or hung over. We've never had family vacations, or even family outings. If we go out to dinner, it's to some pub, and my dad makes some sort of comment that embarrasses my mom, and we leave before we even finish eating."

I couldn't tell if it bothered me that Ross asked so many questions about my dad's drinking. I'd never talked with him about it, and he'd never met my dad. I doubted Collin had spoken with him or Heather about it either.

It felt like Ross could read my mind because he just gave my hand a squeeze and said, "Sorry, I shouldn't pry. It's none of my business."

That offended me for sure, "It's fine, and you don't know him. You're my boyfriend; you deserve to know what you're getting yourself into by dating me. I guess that we have the same business now."

"Yeah, that's a good way of putting it." Ross said, giving me a peck on the cheek before we went into school.

...

Parts of Ross and me being Ross and me still hadn't changed. We still sat next to each other in English, and sometimes we ate lunch together, but we didn't make a big deal out of it if we didn't. That day, we did eat together, and it might have ended up better if we hadn't.

"Hey, you." Ross set his lunch bag on the table, and settled into the chair across from mine on the high top by the window.

I smiled as I put my book away, "Hi," I said, taking in typical Ross at lunch. Tie pulled away from his neck, top button of his shirt open, uniform jacket long ago deserted slung over his bag on the floor.