Before You Go

chapter twenty-five

Leon

The next night, after everyone has gone their separate ways for the remainder of the evening, I get a call from my dad. I'm surprised to see his name on the screen due to the time difference between Newfoundland and British Columbia, but that doesn't stop me from answering my phone. I haven't seen my dad for a few weeks now. We try to see each other at least once a month – even if flights are expensive. But that's what losing a loved one does to you; you become closer to the people in your life. After Mom died, my dad and I became closer than ever. I'm not saying we were never close before. All I'm saying is that rather than talking once-a-week or only seeing each other on holidays, we talk and see each other as much as we can. After this wedding is over, Dad's coming to stay in Saanich with me for a couple of weeks so we can do some hiking on the island.

"Hey, Dad," I say, stepping onto the back deck of the carrier house. It's warm tonight and all I can hear is crickets chirping. The sun has just slipped behind the mountains, casting a warm, golden glow across everything. I lean against the railing and stare at the land before me. "What's up?"

"Leon," Dad says. I can hear the smile in his voice, which makes me smile. "I haven't heard from you for a while. How's Whistler?"

I chuckle to myself. I talked to Dad the night before last and texted him this morning. "Sorry, Dad," I reply. "I've been...busy."

"Do I even want to know?" he jokes.

"Nah," I reply. "It's nothing like that." I don't know if I should be amused or grossed out by his sneaky innuendo. It's funny that he knows just how hung up I am on Liz, but does he really think we're that close already? Clearly, he's forgotten just how stubborn Liz is. "I talked to her about Mom, but telling her that I still love her is difficult. It's been two years since I last spoke to her, Dad. Although she's exactly the way I remember her, she's still changed a lot. And I don't want to shake her with my confession."

Dad stays silent on the other line, mulling over my words for a moment. As he does, I begin to gnaw on my thumbnail. I'm wondering if I should say more to him. I don't want to spring the news on Liz – I want to ease her into it and make sure I don't shock her. Surely, she can pick up on the hints I've been leaving behind: the kettle corn, the lemonade, searching for her when she was busy crying on the tire swing. But is that really my intention or am I just relaying excuses? Knowing my dad, that's exactly the question he's going to ask me.

"That's a shit excuse if I've ever heard one myself," Dad finally says.

I glance at the pink-and-orange streaked sky, shaking my head. A small smile plays across my lips. I figured Dad was going to say something like that – I just thought he'd be a little more elusive about it.

"It's not," I argue. "Dad, Liz has changed. She's grown up and moved on – she's getting married, for God's sake! Do you know how selfish it would be of me to tell her than when the date is so close?"

"I don't find it selfish at all," he replies. "You have a right to express your feelings. And it is a shit excuse, Leon. You said so yourself that simply showing up shook her. Besides, what have you been doing this whole time?"

I bite my lip. Okay, he has a point. It's not like I've been sitting around and doing nothing. I've been trying to get Liz to clue about my feelings. I've been getting to know her again. But the difference is that if I keep my feelings a secret, then she won't feel like she has to make a choice between James and I. I'm not putting immediate pressure on her.

"Exactly what I thought," Dad muses.

Feeling exasperated, I sigh. "What do you want me to do? Walk up and tell her that I'm still in love with her? Hit her over the head with a baseball bat and kidnap her?"

"It wouldn't hurt," he jokes.

"Dad."

"Oh, come on, Leon," he laughs. "Loosen up a little."

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. I don't know how to respond to him. My heart longs for Liz, but my logic side knows better than to interfere directly. I think the inadvertent route is the best one to take, to keep things fair between us. But that's where my main problem comes from: I listen to my heart more than I listen to my head. Why I can't seem to stay away from her, despite her being engaged. 

"Listen to me," Dad says. "You love that girl. It's been obvious for as long as I can remember. There is no shame in telling someone how you feel – even if it does complicate things. Your feelings are valid. Life is too short to tolerate avoidance and fear. Tell Eliza how you really feel before it's too late. You never know what might happen – this might work in your favour. I know you regret lying to her and ghosting her, but judging by the story you've told me, she seemed fairly accepting. And if I do recall correctly, Eliza did love you."

I close my eyes, feeling a pang of loneliness. I know he's trying to make me see the light here, but I also know he's referring to what happened to Mom. We weren't expecting her to be diagnosed with something so volatile. And nor did we know how to deal with it. Mom's death proved that life is short and that we need to take advantage of every opportunity.

Speaking of Mom...I wish she were here to help me through this. She knew Liz almost as well as I did, and I know she loved Liz like she was her own daughter. Mom would know what do to. She always did.

"Okay," I reply, deciding that I'll eventually tell Liz how I feel in honour of my mom. She always supported the two of us together. And although I'll never know it for sure, I can believe that Mom wanted us to live out our lives together. I have to do this for Mom. "I'll find a way to tell her."

I can hear the smile in Dad's voice when he says, "That's my boy."

I smile to myself, understanding the deeper meaning beneath those words. Mom used to say that all the time to me. I like how Dad has adopted her saying.

"Dad?" I ask.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks," I reply, "for everything."

"Don't thank me yet, kid," he chuckles. "Thank me when you've got your girl back."

I chuckle along with him. "I'll talk to you tomorrow, Dad. Love you."

"Love you, too, Leon," he replies.

When we finish with our goodbyes and the lines have been disconnected, I stuff my phone into my pocket and gaze out at the view. If I'm going to do this right, I'm going to need to meticulously plan out how I want to express my feelings to Liz. For starters, I'm going to have to make sure we're alone. If James hears me speak a word about loving his fiancée, he'll try and kick my ass. Secondly, I'm going to need to figure out what to say. I've got one shot at this and I can't screw it up.

I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose in frustration.

When did expressing my feelings become so complicated?