Page 106 of The Design of Goodbye
Oh shit. He knew. And if I didn’t want him barging into my room, I needed to call him. When he answered, I greeted him with, “Uh, hi, Dad.”
“Honey,” he started, sounding out of breath but...not mad. “I hate to do this to you, but I have an emergency.”
I sat up, preparing myself for the onslaught of,How could you? I trusted you.I’m so disappointed. “What is it?”
“I forgot a key for the Charlevoix lake house.”
His response was so unexpected, I let out a shocked “What?”
“I know, I know. You can say ‘I told you so.’ You warned me I’d forget it, and I did.” He sighed. “It’s still in our safe. Could you please bring it to me? I know it’s a long drive, but the open house starts in three hours, and potential buyers are going to want to see the wine storage.” A crash sounded, and my dad let out a muffled curse.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes, don’t worry. I tripped.” A door slammed. “It’s a little chaotic over here. Anyway,” he continued, “I know Liam’s probably there for tutoring, but maybe he can join you on the drive. Or maybe he—”
“Dad,” I said firmly so he’d stop ranting, “it’s okay. We’ll bring it. Text me the address.”
After our call ended, I checked on Liam. He hadn’t moved. I wished I could let him sleep more, but it was already noon. We needed to leave in the next hour, or we wouldn’t arrive until after the open house started.
“Liam,” I said softly, “wake up.”
He faced me, squinting as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. “What’s going on?”
“Ever been to Charlevoix?”
* * *
When I was little, my mom used to go through what she called “fashion breakthroughs.” During these, she required complete silence, which was code for no Madison around. Apparently, I ruined her process, so I tagged along with my dad. We went everywhere together: the grocery store, the barber, all his open houses. I’d always looked forward to what I’d renamed as my mom’s “fashion episodes” so my dad and I could hang out. But by the time I’d started middle school, I’d grown out of grocery store trips and open houses and instead chose to escape to Jules’s house until my mom emerged from her sewing room, frazzled but social.
So, when Liam and I arrived at the open house, a wave of nostalgia hit me, and I was desperate to stay. Because, along with that sudden nostalgia, a new fear filled me. The fear of growing up, going to college, and having to say goodbye to that little girl whose dad had been her entire world.
I was too scared to ask if I could stay, terrified my dad would say,I don’t need you. You’ll mess it up. You’ll disappoint me.
But, somehow, Liam knew what I wanted, and he asked for me. My dad’s reaction was unexpected: wide eyes, huge grin, absolutejoy.
Three hours later, my dad was ecstatic and raving about how Liam and I were his good luck charms because he’d received not one but three offers. Grateful, he let Liam and I dip our feet in the indoor pool, a childhood tradition, while eating the leftover food he’d prepared for the event. Like my dad, I was happy, too, because I’d seen the brochure for the open house displayed on the kitchen island with the five picturesI’dsuggested he use weeks ago. The fact he’d chosen what I’d picked left me with a strange and unfamiliar sense of security.
“Can I ask you something?” wondered Liam, gently kicking the water. The sunroom we were in had floor-to-ceiling windows, and the setting sun made it look like an orange-and-pink glow had been painted on him.
“Fine,” I said, caving. I handed him the last brownie, which we’d been fighting over for the last ten minutes. “You can have it butonlybecause of your migraine.”
He accepted the brownie, ate half of it in one bite and then said, “My migraine’s finally gone. Did I forget to tell you?”
“Did you trick me?”
He finished the brownie. “Define trick.”
I shoved him playfully in the back, and it caught him off guard. He pitched forward and grabbed onto my arm in a death grip.
Once confident he wasn’t going to fall in the water, he released me. “I wouldn’t do that again if I were you,” he advised.
“Scared to get wet?”
“Something like that.” Then he said, “I wasn’t going to ask for the last brownie. I wanted to ask what’s going on with you and your dad.”
Even though I trusted Liam with everything I had, my guard went up. “What do you mean?” I took a bite of a chocolate chip cookie, trying to hide my growing nervousness at the direction I assumed this conversation was going.
“I’ve been hanging out with you and your dad a lot lately, and you seem scared to upset him. When we were at the tree farm, you thought the tree you loved was too tall, and you were almost too scared to tell him about it. Or, sometimes, at dinner, he’ll ask for your opinion on the meal, and I can tell you have some critiques but never say them.”
