Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90503 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 453(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Closing my eyes, I swallowed the tightness in my throat. “She is.”
I went home and tried to take a nap, but failed. After an hour or so, I gave up, took the bandage off my tattoo and washed it off. The skin was pink and tender, and the sight of her name on my body made me both happy and sad. I applied some ointment, put on some hiking shorts and a long-sleeved shirt to keep my arm covered, grabbed a bottle of water, and drove to Powell Butte. I was nearly ready to make the call to my brother, but I felt like I needed a little more time. I needed to do this for me, not because Finn or my parents or Evan or Beatrix or even Maren wanted me to.
While I hiked, I thought a lot about my childhood—my parents, my relationship with my brother, my behavior. The way I purposefully defied my parents to make a point. The way I refused to try my best at school so that no one could tell me my best wasn’t good enough. The way I sought solace in art but never felt like I was taken seriously. The kind of parent I would be if I ever had the chance.
Finn was a good dad, I’d give him that, but I’d work way less than he did. I wanted to be there swimming in the pool with my family and putting the hot dogs on the grill, not coming home after dinner was already on the table. Our dad, a corporate attorney, had worked a lot too.
At one point I stepped off the trail for a water break, and stood for a moment looking at Mount Hood in the distance. Its snowy peak never failed to take my breath away. I’d climbed it once and had always wanted to do it again—the view from the summit at sunrise was stunning, the kind of view that made you glad to be alive.
A few hours later I drove back home, sweaty and famished and tired, but certain of what I should do. When I pulled into my driveway, I was shocked to see Finn sitting on my front porch.
Not once had Finn ever come to see me anywhere I’d lived.
I got out of the car and walked toward him slowly.
“Hey,” Finn said, rising to his feet.
“Hey.” I thought about offering my hand, but while I was doing that, he came forward and hugged me.
It was a little awkward—he and I weren’t huggers—but kind of nice too. “Sorry for showing up like this,” he said as he released me.
“It’s okay.” I scratched my head. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to talk to you.”
I probably should have told him right then I’d decided to have the surgery, but I didn’t. Some part of me wanted to hear what he was going to say first. “Want to come in?”
“Sure.”
We walked to the front porch, where I noticed he had a small carry-on bag. “This is quite a surprise.”
“I know.” He picked up the bag and slung it over his shoulder. “Bree said I should call, but I wasn’t sure you’d have let me come. And I wanted to say some things in person.”
“Okay.” I unlocked the front door and we went in. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.” He set his bag down while I turned on the living room lamps, then took a seat on a chair adjacent to the couch. “I’m here to apologize.”
I sat on the couch. Folded my arms over my chest. “For what?”
“For not being a better older brother. If I had been, you’d still be at my house, and you’d have an easier time taking my advice.”
“Fair enough.”
“You had it rougher than I did growing up, and I don’t think I understood that until I had my own kids. Being a dad has made me rethink some things.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I want the chance to be better, Dallas. I came here to say I’m sorry and also to say …” He sat up taller and sort of puffed out his chest. “I’m—we’re, Bree and the kids and Mom and Dad—not giving up on you. We’re your family, dammit, and we want you around.”
“You do?”
“Yes. Has Mom been calling?”
“Yes. And Dad.”
“I told them what was going on, and I also told them that if we expect you to care what we want, we have to show you we care about you. I don’t think we’ve shown it enough.” He paused. “I talked to them about the past, asked them to imagine what it was like for you. I hadn’t done that either until now.”
I wasn’t sure I liked the idea of the three of them all sitting around talking about me like that, but maybe it’s what had to happen. “What did they say?”