Chapter Nineteen
Olivia
Midterms start next Monday, but after what happened, the Dean of Students allows us an extra week to take our exams. Instead of studying, Elijah rents a car, and we drive off to face our last demon—my beloved father. It’s harsh to say, but this is where our trouble started. We drive along the turnpike into Pennsylvania, picking up interstate 78. The radio station is set to classic rock to keep the mood mellow, and occasionally, we talk.
“How do you think he’s going to react when we tell him?” Elijah asks.
I shrug my shoulders as I stare out the windows at the trees finally losing their autumn leaves. “I don’t care how he feels about us being together. If anything, he should feel ashamed, not us.”
Elijah’s mouth tightens as I pretend to be braver than I actually feel. It’s my father, but my nerves are dancing in the pit of my stomach.
Dad stands in the door glaring at Elijah as we take our overnight bags out of the car. He had one condition that we spend the weekend at the house in separate bedrooms, of course. I wasn’t okay with it, but Elijah said that talking was more important than making a point.
Bringing the past up isn’t easy as we dance around the painful topic. We cover everything else under the sun, like the weather and the local gossip. It’s late in the day, and we better talk soon before we hit the road again.
The three of us sit at the dining room table, poking at our dinner of roasted chicken and red potatoes. Dad barely looks at Elijah, and Elijah barely looks at dad. They both cast pained glances at me.
I take in a deep breath and jump straight into the fire. “Elijah and I are getting married after graduation.”
Thankfully, Dad has nothing in his mouth and grabs his glass of water, sipping it slowly to rid himself of his sudden cough. He places the glass down with a loud thud, and the water swirls back and forth in the glass like a tempest.
“Are you here to ask for my blessing?” he asks.
“No,” replies Elijah emotionlessly, “I came here to ask you what happened.”
The grimace on Dad’s face freezes. He pushes his chair away from the table, and I’m about to tell him that he better not leave. But instead he begins to talk. “I didn’t mind the two of you being friends when you were children, but as Olivia got older, I started to worry about her. I didn’t trust you with my daughter, and I was looking for proof that I was right.”
“But you didn’t have proof,” replies Elijah, “just some photos on a digital camera. It was obvious that I didn’t take them. You’re a photographer—you even taught me. You had to have known.”
Dad sits with his arms crossed and stares at Elijah. “It went farther than I had expected. I wanted to scare you away from Livi, not have you convicted. And then I convinced myself that it probably had happened anyway. Where else would she have learned that stuff from?”
“The internet,” I reply. “I saw a lot of things on the internet.”
Dad shifts in his chair. “I just didn’t want you around my daughter. If you have one someday, you’ll realize that you hate the man that threatens to replace you.”
The conversation lapses into silence, and I wonder if Elijah has noticed that my father hasn’t apologized. I spear a potato on my fork and chew absentmindedly. I don’t have the nerve to tell Dad that we plan to move away, at least, not today.
“My mother took it hard[8],” Elijah says. “She believed me, but when she passed I was still in detention. She sold the lake house, though she loved it. She said it would never be the same. I imagine it wouldn't be with everyone gossiping.”
Dad lowers his chin. “I’m sorry about your mother. I know how difficult these things can be on a parent.”
Elijah nods. “At least you're sorry for something.”
He had noticed that Dad hadn’t apologized to him. We sat there waiting for the conversation to pick up again.
“Do you still have the camera?” I ask and then wish I hadn’t.
Dad shakes his head as if he wants the thought off of him. “No, I got rid of it.”
***
“Take care of my daughter,” Dad speaks to Elijah, “and come back again.”
Sunday afternoon couldn’t arrive fast enough. I watch them shake hands. It's a small gesture, but at least it’s a start. We get into the rental car and start the long drive back to school. I lose myself in my thoughts as a light rain descends on the road.
“I'm dropping out for a semester,” announces Elijah in the quiet of the car.
“You can’t,” I almost whine.