After the therapist leaves, Tatum reheats one of the many dishes friends and family packed into our freezer to ease the transition home with Lucy.
“I was thinking…” Tatum taps her fork on her plate, having taken maybe two bites of her lasagna “…I’d like to stay for a few days just to make sure Lucy’s sleeping okay. It’s a king bed, so I can sleep with her.”
“Mom, I’m—”
“I think that’s a great idea,” I say before Lucy can finish her protest.
“How’s Josh going to feel about you staying with your ex-husband?” Lucy is relentless. She’s Tatum.
I internally chuckle at the two of them butting heads.
Tatum lifts a shoulder into a casual shrug. “I’m not staying with my ex-husband. I’m staying with my daughter.”
It’s awesome the way they talk as though I—the ex—am not right here.
“Okay. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when Josh gets jealous.”
Tatum rolls her eyes. “Jealous of what?”
“Thanks, you two.” I stand, taking my plate to the sink. I’m feeling quite loved at the moment. “If you’re going to talk about me, the least you could do is wait until I’m in the shower and do it behind my back like normal people.”
A giggle escapes Lucy. “It’s a compliment, Dad. I’m suggesting you have assets that might make another man jealous.”
“Oh yeah?” I turn with my shoulders back, chest puffed out, and chin held high. “Such as?”
“Well, nobody grows a beard as quickly and as thick as yours.”
Pursing my lips, I scratch my stubble covered chin. “I’m listening …”
Another giggle comes out of Lucy, and it’s the sunrise over the most beautiful sea. It’s oxygen on the brink of suffocation. It’s life. She’s right … the slightest twist of fate could have snatched her away from us. Even Tatum can’t hide her grin as Lucy giggles.
“And your lawn mowing skills are way above average.”
“True …” I nod slowly.
“And your heart…” Lucy’s tone shifts into one that’s more serious “…is almost too big for your chest. It’s almost too big for this world. And nobody knows that better than I do.”
Well, fuck …
The girl knows how to hit her dad squarely in the feels.
Tatum’s grin fades, and she stands, taking her plate to the trash to scrape ninety percent of her dinner into the garbage. “I’m going to run home and get a few things packed. I’ll be back in an hour or so. Okay?”
“Can you grab my extra charger in my nightstand drawer so I can charge my iPad and my phone tonight? I forgot to have you get it for me earlier.”
“Sure.” Tatum brushes past me without a single glance and kisses Lucy on the head before taking off.
When the door closes behind her, I sigh through my nose while biting my lips together and giving Lucy a look. “Killing me.”
“It’s time.”
I shake my head. “It’s not.”
“Then when?”
“When I’m gone. When I’m dead.”
Her accident didn’t affect her signature pout that was a direct genetic transfer from Tatum. “Why? Like … I understood then. But things have changed.”
“Things changed because of time, not just your accident. And there is no point.”
“There’s always a point to the truth.”
I hate her advanced wisdom for a seventeen-year-old. It bites me in the ass when I least expect it.
“To set one free?” I reply in a mocking tone.
“Sometimes I think it would give her permission to …”
“To what, Lucy? Hate you? Hate me even more?”
“To love you.”
“I’m not sure Josh would agree with your theory or approve of your reasoning.”
“Screw Josh.”
My head jerks backward. “I thought you liked Josh—except for his incessant hand washing.”
“I do like Josh. He’s a great guy. A brilliant doctor. Handsome. He checks off all the boxes for most women.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“He’s not you.”
I chuckle. “And that’s a bad thing?”
“It is for Mom.”
“Why? A couple of months ago, you were encouraging me to date. You insisted I needed to get on dating sites.”
“That was before the accident.”
“So? How does your accident change my dating status?”
“She can no longer hate you.”
“Mom?”
Lucy nods.
“I don’t think it works that way. Two wrongs don’t make a right. Tragedy and death don’t make for an epic love story.”
“I disagree. It’s like you’ve never read Romeo and Juliet or listened to ninety percent of the songs on the radio.”
I roll my eyes.
“Tell me you don’t still love her.”
“Who?” I buy time.
“Duh, Mom.”
“I love her. I’ll always love her. She was my wife. She’s the mother of my children. That kind of love doesn’t die.”
“See! You do love her. If it were just a ‘mother of my children’ thing, you would have just said that. But you said you still love her as your wife.”
“No.”
“No what?” Lucy wheels her chair back from the table a few feet.
“No wrongs have been righted with your accident. It was tragic, and we are so lucky that it didn’t turn out more tragically. But you need to stop looking at this as some opportunity to revisit the past. I only want you looking ahead to the future and getting better … stronger … walking again. Okay?”