Chapter 28

The library was empty of other patrons. I smiled at the cranky librarian who was shelving books in the kid’s section and dumped all my stuff on a table near the back. I pulled out a sheet of paper from one of my notebooks. I stared down at the blank page. You would think I’d have a lot of things to say to my dad since we hadn’t talked in years, but I couldn’t think of how to start. I chewed on the end of my pen for a bit before I tried to begin.

Dear Dad,

Surprise! It’s me. I hope you’re in the same place, because this is the only address I have for you. In case you haven’t heard, we’ve moved. Mom got remarried and we’re living on one of the islands now.

I saw some of your paintings in a gallery a couple of years ago. They were awesome. I should have told you then, but I didn’t. I’m still drawing, but Mom’s not crazy about it. I’m thinking about art school, but not sure.

There are actually a lot of things I’m not sure about. Nothing against Mom, but I thought it might be nice to have a different perspective on things once in a while. I’d like to be able to call you, if it’s okay. If it’s not, I understand. I’m seeing a shrink. Mom thought I should get some help getting my life on track. I can’t really tell if I’m off track or not. Did you know?

I hope you’re still painting and that life is good.

Your daughter,

Isobel

I read the letter over. It was lame. It was worse than lame. I felt like pounding my head on the table.

“Trouble thinking of what you want to say?” Mandy asked, leaning against the shelf at the end of the row.

I sighed. “It’s a letter to my dad. We’ve been sort of estranged.” I held up the paper. “I guess I thought sending a strange letter would fix things.”

“Seems like a good place to start,” Mandy said.

I liked that she didn’t start fishing for details of why we were estranged or start offering advice about how when she was a kid she never got along with her parents either, and now she realized how they always had her best interests at heart. “I’m not sure where to begin,” I said.

“Sometimes, how we say something doesn’t matter as much as saying it in the first place,” she said.

“Do you think I should send it?”

“There are envelopes and stamps in the top drawer of the desk.” She nodded toward the check-out counter. “Take what you need. My treat.” She smiled.

She was right. If I didn’t send it now, I would lose my nerve. I marched up to the desk and pulled out an envelope. I wrote Dad’s address down and practically slapped the stamp on. The older librarian came around the corner and stared at me behind the counter.

“I have permission. She said I could use one of the stamps.” I pointed to Mandy. The older librarian followed my finger and then looked back at me.

“Oh.” Her voice was flat.

I waved to Mandy before heading out the door. Now that I’d written the letter, I wanted to go home and see Nate and tell him about Nicole.

Downsides to living in the same house as the guy you like:

 

1. The chances of running into him in the hallway with seriously bad bed-head and morning breath that smells like a week-old corpse left in the hot sun are high.

2. If you walk past his door at night, you’ll discover he snores. That or he’s keeping a running sawmill in there with competing chainsaws.

3. You can’t watch your favorite cheesy TV shows without him knowing you have no taste. This leaves you pretending to have a huge interest in the stuff they show on public television.

4. He sees your weird eating habits, like how you like strawberry Pop-Tarts with peanut butter smeared on top.

5. Your favorite flannel pj’s with the sock monkey design all over them have a seriously saggy ass, and thus you have to get up extra early so that you are dressed by the time you go downstairs for breakfast.

The major upside of living in the same place is that you see way more of him. Except, of course, when you really need to. I couldn’t wait to talk to Nate and tell him about everything: seeing Dr. Mike, what happened with Nicole, and the letter to my dad. I flung open the front door and ran smack into Dick.

“Jesus!” I yelled out. Had he just been freaking standing there next to a closed door? Who the hell does that?

“Please don’t cuss in this house,” Dick said. “It isn’t ladylike.”

I did my best to avoid rolling my eyes. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Is Nate home?”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to talk with him.”

“What did your therapist say?”

Clearly, Dick wasn’t going to let me find Nathaniel until we played twenty questions. “It’s sort of private. Doctor-patient confidentiality and all that.” If Dick thought I was going to let him have a peek into my brain, he was more deluded than the average schizophrenic. My mom stood in the doorway to the kitchen clutching a dish towel.

“I think Isobel’s seeing Dr. Mike is a good step forward. Nip any problems right in the bud,” my mom said.

“How in the world are we supposed to trust the medical opinion of someone who calls himself Dr. Mike?” Dick argued.

Even though I had mocked Dr. Mike’s name, it was totally different when Dick did it.

“He has great credentials,” my mom said, twisting the towel in her hands.

“Well, I hope so. It isn’t that I want to cause trouble, but I also don’t think we can afford to bury our heads in the sand. All I can say is that if we don’t see some radical changes around here, we’re going to need to look at other options.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“I think you need far more help than ‘Dr. Mike’ can give you. I spoke to someone in Olympia. He recommended that with your family history and current acting out, you would benefit from a residential program. At the very least until they get you on a working medication regime.”

I felt my nostrils flare in annoyance. “I don’t need medications.” I turned to face my mom. “I don’t need to be on drugs. There isn’t anything wrong with me.”

“Nothing wrong?” Dick shook his head sadly. “What would you call your behavior lately?”

“For the record, Dick,” I put the emphasis on his name, “you’re not my dad. So while I appreciate your input, decisions about my life aren’t up to you.”

“What goes on in this house is up to me,” Dick fired back.

“What, you’re planning to kick me out unless I do what you want? Do you think that’s a threat? That sounds like a dream come true. Go ahead, tell me to leave. I can be on the next ferry back to Seattle. I have friends I can stay with so that I’m not cluttering up your house—oh, excuse me, I meant your estate.” My face was inches from Dick’s. I really hoped that if he called my bluff, Anita would forgive me for our fight. Otherwise it was going to be really awkward when I showed up at her place with my duffel bag and all my worldly belongings.

“Both of you stop it.” Dick and I stopped our staring contest to look over at my mom. She was on the verge of tears and her lower lip was shaking. “We’re a family now, and we solve problems as a family. No one is going anywhere.” Mom shoved the towel under her arm and dashed past us up the stairs.

“I hope you’re happy. You’ve upset your mother.”

“I’ve upset her?” I snorted. I couldn’t believe the arrogance of this guy. I shook my head. There was no point in arguing with him. “Excuse me, I need to speak to Nate.” I stepped around Dick and headed for the stairs.

“Nathaniel’s not home.”

“Fine, I’ll wait.”

Dick grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into the flesh above my elbow. He pulled me close, and I could feel the spray of spit from his mouth when he spoke. “You stay away from him. I know your type.” He looked me up and down like I was naked and he didn’t like what he saw. “You think you can make yourself better by clinging to someone like Nathaniel. You need him for your reputation, and you’re nowhere near good enough for him.”

I yanked my arm back. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” My heart was beating fast. Dick’s “I’m a caring stepdad with your best interests at heart” act was officially over.

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. You need him to make yourself look good.”

“I’m going to tell my mom what you said.”

Dick laughed. “You do that. You turn to your mother like a security blanket. You think she’s going to believe you given everything going on?”

“I know what you’re doing.” I tried to keep my voice unwavering. “You’re trying to convince my mom I’m crazy.”

“It’s not that hard of an argument to make.”

“I’m not crazy.”

Dick smiled. “I don’t really care one way or the other.”

I pushed past Dick and ran up the stairs to my room. I slammed the door loud enough so that it echoed through the whole house.