Into You (20 page)

At last it became clear why Sandy suddenly hated me.

“I made this business thrive.” She continued to rant.  “I would’ve made him great.” Sandy shook her head, and looked down her nose at me, “But you? At least she had style, flair. She wasn’t a little nothing.
An insignificant peon.”

My eyes blazed and my hands trembled with fury, “How dare you insult me!”

“I can do anything I damn well please. I run this office. I hire. I fire. And as a matter of fact, I want you to pack up your things and get your sorry, pathetic ass out of here!”

“On what grounds?”
I yelled back.

“Insubordination.”

“Ah hem.”

We both turned to find Dr.
Penbrook standing just inside the doorway, his brow furrowed.

For a moment that seemed to take far too long to pass, no one spoke.

“Sandy, in my office now!” he ordered.

She took a deep breath. “I’m just finishing some business with Elizabeth.”

“You’re
done
dealing with Elizabeth. In my office.”  He raised his brows menacingly.

I watched in silence as Sandy steamrolled her way into Dr.
Penbrook’s office.

Chapter 50

Carter

I sat alone in the back of the restaurant drumming my fingers on the table. I picked up a spoon, and examined the empty piece of cutlery.
What the hell was I thinking?
I looked at my watch and then at the door. No sign of Elizabeth, or my father.

I checked my phone. No message. No text. Where the hell was she? The longer I sat by myself, the less likely I was to stay. After checking the time once more I decided I'd give them five more mi
nutes before I got up and left.

I tented my fingers together and closed my eyes, willing Elizabeth to walk through the door. And walk through it alone. When I told her to make arrangements the thought hadn’t crossed my mind that she might actually catch a ride with my father. I don't know why she would, but
paranoia doesn't run on logic.

I thought of calling her, but she'd think I was checking up on her. So what? She was late. There was nothing wrong with me worrying about her safety. I picked up my phone, debating if I should text or call. Before doing either, I looked up one last time and saw her speaking to the hostess. My heart unclenched in my chest and I could breathe again.

Elizabeth was alone. She looked in my direction. I wanted to get lost in those chocolaty brown eyes, but I couldn't. My father was coming and I had to have my game face on. As she walked toward me, I saw it, something wasn't right.

I caught a glimpse of him in the background. He spotted Elizabeth and followed a few feet behind her. Elizabeth's eyes were weary, frightened almost. They met mine and grew wider. I kept focused on her instead of peeking at my father behind her.

Once she was close to the table, I stood to greet my beautiful fiancé. I felt nauseous and jittery. My nerves were getting the best of me. I hoped I could settle myself enough that in a few minutes, with my father sitting at the table, I could keep my voice down and my hands from shaking.

I leaned in to kiss Elizabeth. She took my hands in hers. I couldn't help
myself, I looked down for a quick moment, and smiled seeing the engagement ring on her finger. When my eyes moved back up to her face, I didn't see the normal sparkle in her eyes.

I knew something was bothering Elizabeth. But there wasn't time to ask before my father approached the table. My eyes and m
y attention darted over to him.

"H
ello, Carter," he said beaming.

"Hi." I said, not wanting to seem hostile, yet not overjoyed at my father's presence. I wanted
to come across as indifferent.

I pulled the chair out for Elizabeth. Once she was settled, my father and I took our sea
ts, but my eyes never left his.

"Son, I am delighted to offer my congratulations on your engagement."

I glanced at Elizabeth. She looked nervous, too. Probably afraid of how I'd react. I didn't want to make her nervous. Dinner was my idea, and I was doing it for her. The point was to ease the anxiety not add to it.

"Thank you."

After an awkward moment of silence, my father broke the growing tension. "I must admit I was quite surprised when Elizabeth came into my office and invited me to dinner."

The waitress came to take our order. We all started off with a drink to take the edge off. Elizabeth ordered a glass of wine. Me, I went for the good stuff, vodka straight. Then
it was my father's turn.

I listened as he ordered the same drink he had every night with dinner when I was growing up.
A dirty martini. Just hearing the words leave his mouth enveloped me in memories of us as a family.

As soon as he'd come home from work, before even looking at my mother, he'd look for his drink. She made sure to always have it ready for him. More important than dinner on the table was the drink in his hand. He needed something to settle his nerves after a long day of dealing with patient
s.

I understood early on my father lost his love for what he did.
Before I decided not to be a doctor, before Jamie and the divorce. He lost it when he decided money was more important than people. And he wanted the same unfulfilling life for me. Prick.

"Now then," he smiled. "Where were we?"

I looked away. I hadn't asked this man for anything in years. Even before he broke the father/ son bond, I wanted to prove my independence and did my best to break free from needing anything from my mother or him. Yet here I was about to lay down my pride at his feet.

I took a
deep breath and readied myself.

"The thing is
, Elizabeth's parents aren't happy."

He didn't say anything. He just sat there and listened. He wanted to watch me squirm.

"And when they asked questions about you," another deep breath. "Let's just say, they didn't like what they heard."

"You told them about Jamie?"

"Yes."

He nodded. "I understand."

"They were upset about the engagement, and it seemed the longer the conversation went on, the worse it got."

"And your mother?
How did she take it?"

I rubbed the back of my neck. It felt like a massive betrayal saying anything about her. And now I had to admit in front of Elizabeth that my mother didn't want me to marry her any more than her parents wanted her to marry me.

"Not well."

"Have you set a date?"

I shook my head and reached for Elizabeth's hand. "Everything happened so fast, we haven't had much time to discuss it."

The waitress placed the drinks and appetizers down on the table in front of us. I took a long sip from my glass, feeling the alcohol burn as it travelled down the back of my throat. It felt good, but I knew I couldn't go on a binge like I did the night of the Christmas party. I needed to stay sober and in control.

"What is it you'd like from me?"

"I'd like for you to meet Elizabeth's parents and smooth things over with them. Convince them we're decent people, and not the families you see on those talk shows breaking out in fights and throwing chairs at each other."

He nodded. "I see."

I felt Elizabeth's hand tighten around mine.
A supportive squeeze.

"Maybe I could have everyone over to the house. We could have a nice lunch and discuss everything openly. I could explain . . ."

I shook my head. My throat tightened at the thought. I wasn't sure I could get the words out. "Neutral ground." I swallowed hard and tried to formulate a complete sentence. "I think a public setting would be better." I knew it would tame my attitude toward my father. Hopefully it would have the same effect on all parties.

My father nodded. "Will your mother be there?"

I shook my head. "I don't think that would be a good idea. If Mom partners up with Liz's parents . . . I hate to even think about it."

Again he nodded. "I'm guessing they don't know that Elizabeth works for me."

She cleared her throat. "No. I didn't have a chance to tell them. Besides, I don't think that would make them any more comfortable with the situation. If anything," she hesitated. "If anything I think it would make them more concerned."

"Because of Jamie."
He finished so she didn't have to.

Elizabeth nodded.

"Carter, I'm not going to try and make excuses for what happened. There is no excuse. And I'm sorry just doesn't suffice."

"No, it doesn't."

Elizabeth looked uncomfortable. She pulled her napkin off her lap and placed it on the empty dish in front of her. She was going to excuse herself. I had to stop her. I shook my head, willing her not to leave. I didn't want to be alone with him.

"You know, I'd do anything to help you. Anything you want. I love you very much, and I'm fond of Elizabeth. I think she brings out the best in you."

"How would you know?" I snapped. "You've been out of my life for the last five years." I couldn't help myself. The words just slipped from my mouth, my attitude along with them. There he was acting like some sort of patriarch, when he was nothing more than an old man in the thrust of a mid-life crisis.

Elizabeth squeezed my hand. I couldn't look at her. I understood my father was her boss, but he was my father. He was supposed to love and protect me from the evil of the world, including slime like him. Instead he stabbed me in the back, and now he wanted the accolades o
f a hero. Not in this lifetime.

"Carter, I've tried to talk to you for years. But you wouldn't return any of my phone calls. I tried to visit; you slammed the door in my face countless times."

"I had nothing to say."

"I
did. But you wouldn't listen."

Every muscle in my body wa
s rigid and tight with tension.

"Do you have any idea how happy I was to see you again? I thought you finally came home to make amends, or at the very least to allow me back in your life." I looked away. He was such a pompous ass.

"When I learned you were there because of the Christmas party Elizabeth no doubt dragged you to, I felt grave disappointment. But as I realized what it meant, I was almost giddy. You moved on. You wouldn't have come otherwise and I had hoped it was a sign that we could open the lines of communication."

He paused, waiting for me to say something. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"You can deny it if you'd like, but I may be in a unique position to understand what Elizabeth means to you. You wouldn't be here right now if that weren't the case."

My muscles were shaking. I used every ounce of self-restraint not to leap over the table and attack him. I leaned forward in my seat and met his eyes with a cold, hard stare. "You stay the hell away from her, or this time I'll kill you."

My father looked down a moment, looking resigned. When his eyes found mine again, they were sad, and watery. "Of course. I never meant for any of this to happen, son. I hope you know that."

"It doesn't matter what you meant. It happened. And to rub salt in the wound you had the audacity to leave my mother and marry her."

He looked surprised. I bet he didn't expect when we started speaking it would be to air our dirty laundry in the middle of an eclectic restaurant.

"Is that what you think happened? That's not it at all. I messed up, I ruined our family. True. I understand and take full responsibility for that. But much like you, your mother wouldn't speak to me. I wanted to try and work things out, but that was impossible since she'd have no part of me."

"You humiliated her."

"I understand. And she made her point loud and clear when I came home from work and found all of her things gone. I didn't want that. She shouldn't have left. I would've let her keep the house. In fact I'd hoped once her anger died down I could offer it her."

"You could've done that in the beginning."

"I did. My attorney offered it to her several times during the divorce proceedings, but she wouldn't accept it. I was told she didn't want any reminders of me, of our marriage, or of why it ended."

"And in the meantime Jamie gets to play Lady of the Manor."

My father shut his eyes, and I noticed how the lines around them, around all his features, were etched much deeper than I remembered. He looked like he'd aged
decades in the last five years.

"I don't live in that house with Jamie as some sort of prize, something she and I won, or a gift I bestowed upon her. In losing you and your mother I lost the best of what I'd done in my life. I'd give it all up for another chance.
Jamie, my practice, everything."

"I'm sure coming home to her a
t night helps with the guilt."

His brows furrowed together. Everything about him looked worn and tired. I knew he wasn't appreciating me throwing his actions in his face. He was hoping for another chance. That was impossible when a
ll I wanted to do was hurt him.

"Yes, I married Jamie. But it wasn't out of love. I didn't throw the grand wedding she wanted. It was a simple civil ceremony with only her parents there. They liked you a lot, son. They already considered you family. Needless to say, they weren't happy with how the pieces fell into place either, and were rather embarrassed by the whole situation."

I didn't respond. I moved my eyes over in Elizabeth's direction. I felt bad about drudging up all this mud covered baggage with her there, but I couldn't help myself. It was long overdue. I gave her hand a little squeeze.

"Son, marrying Jamie, living in that house, it's my penance, the price I pay for what I did. I use them as constant reminders of what I had and was foolish enough to lose. When I said she wasn't good enough for you, well, let's just say my opinion hasn't changed."

"And that's supposed to make it better? I should just sweep it all under the rug?"

He shook his head.
"Of course not. But I would appreciate if I could try and earn back a fragment of your love and respect."

"You can never earn my love and as far as respect, I'm not five anymore. That doesn't come just because you're my father. In fact you lost it because you are my father, and parents don't destroy their children the way you did."

My father got to his feet. I thought for sure he'd just up and leave. While I felt bad Elizabeth had to witness and be part of this disaster between my father and I, at least she could see that I tried.

"If you'll excuse me, I’ll be right back."

Once he was out of ear shot, I lifted Elizabeth's hand onto the table.

"I'm so sorry."

She shook her head. "Don't be."

"I know this is uncomfortable for you, and it doesn't help that I'm handling this all wrong."

"I'm fine. Besides, I've never seen a situation like this discussed in anyone's book of etiquette."

"You sure?
You're very quiet." I cupped her cheek with my hand hoping a long look into her eyes would keep me grounded for the rest of the time with my father. "If you want to leave . . ."

She cut me off. "If I want to leave, I have my car. But you wouldn't bother to stay; you'd up and follow me. You've made it through drinks and appetizers. You're half way through."

"I'm doing it for you. You know that right?"

"Don't. Do it for you. I don't care about him meeting my parents, or if I have their blessing. I just don't want this eating at you anymore."

As the main course was presented to us, my father returned. After he thanked the waitress, no one spoke. I didn't know where to pick up the conversation. I really didn't want to rehash the Jamie situation any more than we already had.

"Carter, how are you earning a living these days?"

"Working as a behaviorist."

"In a school district?"

I shook my head. "I work in early intervention. I'm contracted with a local agency."

"And that pays well?"

"Well enough."

"You could've helped these kids more if you went into neurology. Maybe went into research. I don't understand what prompted you to throw away all of your dreams."

"First of all, they weren't my dreams. They were your dreams. Second, it does something to you when you see a grown man crying. It touched me in ways I can't explain."

My father scoffed.

"This wasn't just any man. It was my college advisor. He was also the coach of the boys’ lacrosse team. He told us as long as the door to his office wasn't locked, we could just walk in. One day I opened the door and found him sitting at his desk, head in his hands and tears in his eyes. His voice cracked when he tried to speak. He was crushed, annihilated because his son was just diagnosed. He kept asking 'How do I get him to understand how much I love him?' It stayed with me. It changed me."

"But still if you would've gone to medical school . . ."

I took a deep breath and shook my head. "You still don't get it. After all this time. I'm not in it for the money. I'm in it because I can directly impact these kids."

"You could've impacted them as a doctor."

"Not like this. Not on a daily basis. I improve their quality of life. I help them learn to deal with the things expected of them in life, like interacting with their family, or tolerating someone touching them. I teach them to communicate in ways that work for them so their frustration is reduced. I could never have the same effect on them as an MD."

He nodded. "How are you going to support your family? I'm sure the money you make is fine for a single man, but you're talking about marriage now, and I'm guessing you might want children in the future. College isn't cheap."