Heartless Lover by Faith Summers
26
Summer
Two mammoth sized wrought iron gates open for us and when we drive down a long winding drive way that numbness I felt before returns and my lungs constrict.
I gaze ahead as a beautiful house comes into view. When Eric parks the car on the drive and we both look around the perfectly manicured grounds.
“We don’t have to stay long,” Eric states.
“Okay, I guess I’ll see how it goes.”
“I’ll just be out here waiting.”
“Thanks. Thanks for coming with me.”
I foolishly thought he’d come inside the house with me, but that’s just me worrying. This part is on me. I have to do the rest by myself. This is my father’s home and I’m a woman now. I need to act like one and get my head together.
“No worries. I’ll see you in a little while,” he adds dipping his head.
“Okay.”
I step out of the car and my shaky legs carry me up the path. There are beautiful flowers here I could have admired if I wasn’t so worked up. My lungs burn with the breath I’m holding on to for dear life and every step I take feels difficult.
I keep my gaze trained on the door ahead of me and focus on putting one foot in front of the other.
When I get up to the door I ring the bell and wait. It swings open and there stands my father, who I haven’t seen in eight years.
As I take in his haggard appearance and the wooden cane he’s resting on I forget my anxiety for a moment and he’s my father again—just older with his wrinkles and graying hair, and dying. He looks like he’s dying and suddenly I feel awful I haven’t seen him in so long.
He looks right at me with what I can only describe as the same trepidation I feel. He stares at me, searching my face as if he’s trying to ascertain if I’m real. I’m surprised when he takes a step forward and reaches out to touch my face.
The touch takes me back and suddenly I’m that little girl again who used to run to him every day and every chance she got.
“Summer,” he says my name with fervency. Hearing his voice stirs memories of happier times.
“Hi Dad,” I reply.
“You really came.”
I nod. “I’m here.”
He leans the cane on the door and pulls me into his arms.
For one moment I allow myself the pleasure of relishing the safety I feel.
I almost feel like the person I used to be. That girl who lived for living and her dreams.
When he pulls away though and releases me I remember to be careful. This greeting is because we haven’t seen each other in years and not because the past has been fixed in any shape or form. The problems we had before still exist. The only difference is time has moved on and all we have is each other.
“Come in.” He motions for me to go inside and I quickly glance over my shoulder at Eric who I didn’t realize was watching over me.
I turn back to my father and walk inside his home.
He takes me to the living room where his art is displayed on the walls. The paintings he’s done are all new. It’s so strange to see new paintings I never knew existed until today. I used to always know what he was working on.
I sit on the sofa and he sits opposite me in the double seat, resting his cane on the side.
“I’m glad you came,” he says.
“Me too. It’s good to see you.”
“It’s even better to see you. I can’t believe it’s been so long.”
“Yeah. It’s been awhile.” I bring my hands together to stop them from shaking.
“Can I get you something to drink or eat?”
“No, I’m fine. It should be me getting you food and drink.”
“No. Moving around keeps me active. I have a support nurse who comes by for a few hours a day to help me. I also have a maid who takes care of the house.”
“That’s good. How are you feeling?”
“Not as bad as yesterday. Things seems to have plateaued so I’m no worse. That’s a good thing. How are you feeling?”
I shake my head. “I’m not great Dad and I don’t know when I’ll ever be again. I’m sure you can say the same thing.”
“Yes. I never expected my daughter to die before me. It’s going to be hard to bury her.” He blows out a breath and bites down on his lip.
“I’m sorry Dad.”
“I know. Me too. After everything is taken care off do you plan to stay in L.A.?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead. But I’d like to see you and take care of you.” I thought of those things. I’d do it if he wants me around. I’d swallow my hurt and pain and be there for him so he doesn’t die hating me too.
“That would be nice. Maybe we could pack up Scarlett’s things together as well. Eric said you’ve been by her house.”
“Yes. We did the bedroom. There’s maybe another day’s work there and then it’s moving the stuff out.”
“I’m glad you’re doing her things.”
“It’s just hard packing them away for good.”
There’s a tick in his jaw that makes me wary. At the best of times, Dad is generally a calm man. Cool and calculated even. But you see that tick, it’s his tell. It’s here now as a heads up that there’s a storm raging inside him.
“Why didn’t you come to me when you were in trouble, Summer?” he asks switching the direction of the conversation and taking it exactly in the direction I feared. “I know you still hold the past against me, but your situation in Monaco was enough for you to push aside our disagreements and come to me.”
I stare back at him, not sure how to answer. My breath hitches and all my muscles freeze. When I cast my mind back to the past I don’t know how he could talk about it like it was some kind of argument we had, or like I was an idiot with “daddy issues.” It was nothing like that.
“Dad… you think the past was a mere disagreement?”
Disapproval gleams in his eyes. “Summer you know what I mean.”
“I’m afraid I don’t. I’m not really clear on what you mean. Yes I get the part about coming to you and I wish I could have but you must have known why I didn’t,” I choke out.
“I hoped you would. The men you were dealing with were dangerous enough for you to come to me.”
“I know, but you were the last person I would have gone to. Don’t you remember how you threw me out of Mom’s funeral?” I can barely say the words. “Don’t you remember how you screamed at me at the top of your lungs and told me how ashamed you were of me. You said I was a disgrace to you and the family. You did that in front of everyone at the funeral. A hundred people were there and that’s how you behaved. That’s how you spoke to me. You told me I wasn’t your daughter anymore and you wanted nothing to do with me. You said you never wanted to see me again.”
I remember word for word verbatim.
He goes quiet but he doesn’t take his eyes off me.
“You threw Mom’s suicide note in my face and told me it was my fault she was dead.” He did that because Mom wrote in her letter that she couldn’t live on this earth knowing her daughter seduced her husband and her daughter was having her husband’s child. “You knew Mom was seeing a psychiatrist for depression and her drug and drinking problems, yet you still blamed me.”
In my heart I knew Mom knew what Ted was doing to me and she believed the truth that I got pregnant with his baby. But it was all spun around to make me look like a whore. I didn’t know how she could do that when there were so many signs her husband was abusing me.
There were so many instances where she’d find blood on my sheets or bruises on my body and she’d turn a blind eye. My doctor even said to her that I was acting like I was being abused. I was fourteen at the time and she laughed it off. In the end, instead of suspecting Ted, she was jealous that he wanted me.
“I was sixteen and pregnant with that monsters child and you didn’t belive me when I said he abused me,” I say, speaking the words I’ve only said less than a handful of times. “He told his lies and the one person I thought would save me was you, but you shunned me and you think I could just get over that?”
“Summer, I still have a hard time believing Ted could do that to you,” he says that and my heart breaks all over again. He still doesn’t believe me.
After all this time, he thinks badly of me.
My God.
“Regardless, I have tried so hard with you over the years to reach out to you. I’ve met you more than half way but you wouldn’t give me a chance, Summer.”
It seems as if he’s forgotten what really happened. “Dad if you can sit there and tell me you still don’t believe what Ted did to me then we still have a problem.”
“Summer we do still have a problem, and it’s the same problem that’s brought on this situation. The problem is you.”
His words deliver a punch to my gut and syphon all the air from my body.
It’s happening again. He’s blaming me.
“You are too reckless,” he adds. “You have this careless personality that stops you from thinking before you act. Scarlett’s death is because of your recklessness.
You have no idea what I went through watching that video of what happened, watching that man shoot her. He shot your sister and killed her because he thought she was you.”
“I …” I rasp out, feeling like I just want to die.
“There’s nothing you can say Summer,” he continues. “Your mother’s death might not have been your fault, but this is. Your sister should be able to visit you without the threat of her life. But your recklessness pushed you toward those men. Summer, you worked in a sex club owned and run by the most dangerous men you can think of. What did you think was going to happen?”
My soul shatters and all I have strength to do is get up.
I can’t do this.
I can’t be around him anymore
“Where are you going Summer?”
Instead of answering, I walk away. Walk back the way I came.
Tears blind my vision as I hurry through the door and see Eric standing by the car smoking a cigar.
I stop for a moment on the steps and bring my hands up to my cheeks as the tears come. Not tears like last night. That was just an overflow that needed to pour to take the edge off. What I cry now is real tears.
Eric puts out the cigar when he sees the state I’m in, and places it back in the car.
I don’t know what comes over me, but when I look at him again I find myself running to him.
When I reach him, I grab onto his shirt as if I need to hold on to the fabric to keep myself from fading away.
“Summer, baby, are you okay?” he asks, but his voice sounds so far away.
I open my mouth to answer but I can’t. Everything Dad said swirls around in my mind and grief assails me.
That’s when I break again. That’s the moment when reality truly hits and guilt for my recklessness consumes me. The tears flow from my eyes like a river, the pain in my soul never ending. Like I won’t be able to stop it and it will kill me if I allow it. But this is the first time that I don’t feel like fighting.
Just as that thought hits me, I feel strong arms encircling me with warmth.
Eric pulls me into the safety of him, against the hard walls of his chest and keeps me from crumbling. The rapid beat of his heart reminds me of the protection he offers me. Right now I might not be running for my life, but the warmth of his embrace protects me from the gamut of emotions attacking me.
“Summer,” he whispers against my ear.
“Please can we go? Can we go home?”
“Of course. Let’s go home.”