“You know I’ll have to tell your father about this.”
“I figured as much.”
* * *
I go up to my father’s study to have the talk.
But he doesn’t ask me a single thing about Crosby. It seems he has an entirely other agenda and I have to admit, I’m a little relieved.
“First things first, I apologize. I’m sorry for never saying no to you.”
At first, I cut my eyes around Daddy’s office, looking for the hidden camera. “What’s going on? Are you dying? Is that why we’re in your office? Because you’re cutting me out of the will?”
Daddy laughs. “What? No, I’m not dying.” He proceeds to confess to me all the ways in which he thinks he’s done me a disservice. Given me things I didn’t earn. Paved a golden path everywhere my feet have trod and never giving me a sense of appreciation for what I have. Most regrettably, never nipping my bullying problem in the bud way back in preschool.
And then, he drops the bomb about Hunter Rydell. Wait … what? The drama queen best friend of the goody-two-shoes girl?
I listen to the whole saga in shock and horror.
“What are you going to give me to keep this story quiet?” I ask when he’s finished, never fully intending to extract money from him over this secret.
Daddy rubs his face in exasperation.
“Did you not hear a word I said? Where did I go wrong with you, Ridley? Was it when I bought you a pony when you asked for one at four years old? Was it the front row Beyonce tickets at the age of nine? Was it the credit cards?”
I sigh and cross my arms. “Daddy, come on.”
“Ridley, I love you. And I don’t want this to affect your senior year any more than I want it tainting Hunter’s senior year.”
I eye him skeptically. “So?”
“So, if the story gets out, it will be embarrassing for you as well as for her,” he says.
My eyes dart around. “Hmm. I don’t think that’s correct,” I say. “This is way worse for you and Hunter.”
My lip curls, because I’ve got him where I want him. Or, at least I think I do. This whole Crosby thing has made me into a better person and I’m not sure I’m great at manipulation anymore.
Finally, Daddy says, “If this story gets out, in any form, I don’t care if you are the source, or Hunter or your mother or the ghosts of Greenbridge are the source. You, my dear daughter, whom I love very much, will be cut off.”
I smirk. I don’t actually care about any of that anymore. But, I’m enjoying this little game. “Really. Well, go ahead and cut me off. I’ll stay with Mother, and she has plenty of money. Not to mention Grandpa. And how am I supposed to stop Mother from blabbing this all over the PTA meeting when she finds out about it?”
Daddy takes a step closer. “Because despite all her faults, she has compassion. Something we perhaps failed to teach you. She would not want a student to suffer embarrassment because of her idiot ex husband. Also, grandpa’s money is in a trust, and you won’t see it until you’re twenty-five. And guess what? Grandpa can change the terms of that trust whenever he wants, with a single word from me.”
I have to take a beat. “I have compassion,” I say, trying not to sound sullen.
Daddy nods. “I’m glad to hear you say that. Now think carefully about what I’ve said.”
I start to turn away, but Daddy presses a hand to my forearm. “Just one more question, daughter of mine. If y
ou ever do find out I’m dying, do you think you could maybe save your concerns about the will until after you give your old man a hug?”
Unexpectedly, my chin quivers. I throw my arms around my Daddy. For the first time in I don’t know how long, I give the man who raised me a proper hug.
Before I let go, I repeat, “OK, but are you sure you’re not dying?”
He laughs again and gives me another fatherly squeeze. “No, Ridley.”
I let go and say, “Just checking. And if you tell anyone you saw me cry, you’ll wish you were dying.” I shoot him a look before flouncing out of his office.