If It Makes You Happy(124)
The three of us stand in the kitchen, with Carol in the other room, watching over Brittany.
“You’re happier in New York,” Emily says matter-of-factly.
Tracy looks from me to Emily with wide, offended eyes, as if I’ll help her. I don’t intend to step in.
“Not because of you,” is all Tracy can think to say.
“I know you blame me for … why you had to stay here,” Emily says. “I didn’t ask to be born though, and you don’t get to treat me how you do.”
Tracy gawks and shakes her head. “Em—”
“I’m serious. I want to be treated like I matter, Mom.”
Tracy blinks and sighs out a small, “You do. I … I’ve considered having you move—”
“Having me move? You don’t get it at all. We’re happy here. Me and Brittany? Super happy. I don’t want to move. I get a say sometimes, you know. What we have here is enough for us, and we’re happy. You’re happy there, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But we wanna be happy here.”
Tracy is stunned for a few minutes before nodding to herself. Emily storms back into the living room after her outburst. I shrug and follow. My girl needed to get it off her chest.
Tracy didn’t have much of an argument for that, and her snappy comments lessen after that conversation. When she warms by the fire, she makes sure to ask more tentative questions about Emily’s life. She asks about Josh. Emily still doesn’t tell her about the pregnancy scare. That will be my responsibility, but that’s fine. It’s what I’m here for—to have the rougher conversations.
Emily makes chicken potpie that night, proud now that her home ec class is done. Tracy says it’s the best potpie she’s ever had—which is a little generous—but I agree to press home the point. We have dinner on the early side because Tracy’s bus leaves that evening. By the time I’m carrying her suitcase to the front door, things have settled enough that half smiles are all around in the living room.
Brittany runs and hugs her mom goodbye. Tracy swings her back and forth, placing a gentle kiss on the top of her head before smoothing down her hair.
“Be good. And tell that boy Luke that he can ask you on a date when you’re sixteen.”
Brittany nods in agreement. I’m pretty sure her mind is stuck on her new Lisa Frank coloring book instead. Good. I’m exhausted with boys around the house.
Emily stands from the couch and reluctantly pulls her mom into a weak hug. It’s awkward and almost uncomfortable to watch. But when Emily’s eyes close, I can tell it’s maybe the start of something good. She needed that hug more than her mom did.
“Be good?” Tracy asks.
Emily nods. “I’ll try.”
I grab Tracy’s luggage and gesture toward the door. Outside the window, a taxi rumbles in front of our house, blowing puffs of exhaust on the plowed street beneath. Tracy nods, and I walk her out to the sidewalk with her suitcase carried over my head. It couldn’t roll on the icy sidewalk even if I wanted it to.
Setting it down, I pull her in for a hug. “Nice to see you, Trace.”
“You too.” She looks back at the house and sighs. “I feel … like I should be here more. I don’t even know them anymore.”
“Don’t feel guilty.”
“I should.”
I shake my head, holding her by the shoulders. “Feel how you feel. But don’t do it because it seems like something you should feel.”
She sucks in a shaky inhale. “I do feel bad, Cliff. Every day, I do.”
“They’re safe here. They’re happy. So, go do what makes you happy. Come visit when you can. Don’t change what’s been working. No need to be annoyed by me more than you need to.”
She blinks and shakes her head. “You don’t annoy me.” She looks down at her shoes and shrugs. “It … didn’t work out. But you’re a wonderful dad. You’re doing good here. Really good.”
“Thanks.”
“And by the way,” she says, “I can tell she really loves you.”
“She?”
“Your neighbor.”
The smile slides off my face. Tracy straightens her posture and nods assuredly.
Love?
I swallow and laugh.
Tracy scowls and interjects a cutting, “Don’t be an idiot, Cliff.”
I tuck my hands in my pockets and hike my shoulders up to my ears. “I try not to be.”
She pokes a finger at me. “I’d better see her again.”
I grin. “Bye, Trace.”
“Bye, Cliff.”
We hug again, holding each other a bit tighter this time.
She gets in the taxi. I load the suitcase in the trunk, and then I pat the side of the car. It putters away. Tracy doesn’t turn back around. She never really has though.
CHAPTER 43
Michelle
The doorbell rings. I crack open the front door of Bird & Breakfast, only to see Cliff on the other side.
“Can Michelle come out to play?”
Then he’s smacked on the side of his head by a snowball a second later.
“Get back out here!” Lars yells from the sidewalk, rounding a ball of snow in his palms.