Read Blue Crush Online

Authors: Jules Barnard

Blue Crush (24 page)

“You could have taken him back, Mom. I could have had a father. It’s not like you didn’t parade your own string of lovers over the years. Why did you keep him away?”

“There were other rumors about drugs and addictions. I didn’t want you mixed up with that. I asked him to stay away and he did, but he kept in touch through my lawyer and he always provided for us.”

“He’s married.”

“I know.” She lets out a pained sigh. “He told me he’d found someone a few years back. He has pressured me ever since to tell you about him. He said he’s clean and that he and his wife have a solid home environment. They want you in their lives. I asked him to wait a couple of years until you graduated from college. I worried that the truth would be too much with the stress of school.”

Jesus. My own mother thinks I’m weak. Putting that aside— “I graduated, Mom!”

“I know! I’m sorry. I was going to tell you, but I was worried.”

“About what?”

“Partly that you’d be angry with us.”

“You mean with you. That I’d be angry with
you.

“Yes.”

“You were right; I’m fucking furious!” I sit up. “How could you keep this from me? He confronted me and I didn’t know who he was.”

“That’s not how I wanted you to find out.”

“Then you should have told me.” My voice catches, a choke—some involuntary, pained gasp …
She lied to me all these years.

My mother rattles on, unaware of the depth of my internal turmoil. “He’s provided for us comfortably. You only just graduated. I was getting ready to tell you. I wish he had talked to me before he went to you.”

I used to believe my father abandoned me, but I also thought there was a chance he didn’t know I existed. That if he’d known, he would have wanted me.

He let me grow up believing I didn’t have a father. My mother’s to blame too—maybe more so—I don’t know … I can’t think above the pounding in my head. I click off the phone without saying good-bye.

Chapter Twenty-Five

My mother tried calling a half a dozen times before I finally turned off my phone. I need to see Lewis, to feel his arms around me. I drive to his office.

“Hiya, honey,” the receptionist at Sallee Construction says. “Want to hear your horoscope? Was just pulling up—”

“Is Lewis around?”

Her smile drops, her eyes taking in my tense shoulders—elbows pressed to my ribs. “No, sweetie, he’s not. Is there someone else I can get for you?”

I shake my head and walk out the glass door, the bell chiming behind me. When I return to my car, I turn on my phone for the first time since this morning. There are thirty-four missed calls from my mother. I call Lewis, but he doesn’t answer. I leave a message, then text him.

 

Gen: Please call. I spoke to my mother about Jeb. Need to see you
.

 

I shouldn’t rely on Lewis—he has so much responsibility already—but I can’t help it. He’s like a planet with gravitational pull. Amidst the crazy, I want to be near him.

I keep my head down at the casino that night and focus on serving and staying out of Amber’s way in the lounge. I just need to get through my shift.

It’s nearly over and Lewis hasn’t returned my call, which isn’t like him, not even before we became something more.

“Snow.” Amber’s voice is curt, agitated. “You’ve got ten minutes to have your little chat. I’m clocking. And I’m only doing this because the lady gave me a Benjamin. She’s waiting at nineteen.”

I glance up, confused.

Simone, Jeb’s wife, elegant in a white sleeveless top and black pants, sits at the rear of the bar. She smiles, her blond hair smoothed to the side and tucked behind her ear.

I finish delivering my order. Table nineteen is somewhat secluded. Tentatively, I cross and sit with her.

“You’re wondering why I’m here,” Simone says, her voice soft, kind. “I came—well—because I’m a mother. Jeb and I have a daughter. She’s three.” She drops her eyes to her folded hands as if nervous.

Where is she going with this? The news that my biological father moved on to produce more children without being a part of my life is not what I want to hear.

She returns her gaze to me. “Your mother called Jeb. She explained the conversation she had with you. She’s very worried.” The fury from this morning rekindles in my chest. My mother betrayed me and treated me without respect, withholding information I had a right to know. “I’m not in her position, but as a mother trying to do her best for her child, I can relate to her pain. And his. I am worried about my husband as well.”

It’s difficult for me to listen to this when my own pain and unhappiness are so overwhelming, but she came here to see me and I try.

“Your mother raised you and we wanted to respect her wishes to stay away until you finished school, but even before we married, your father expressed his desire to be a part of your life. I’d like to try and explain what Jeb has difficulty saying—men don’t convey their feelings well, if you haven’t already learned that.” Her expression is wry, as if despite the depth of our conversation, she can’t help her frustration with the man, which makes me like her a little bit more.

“When Jeb and I married, you were eighteen and had just moved to college. Your mother worried that a revelation about your father would upset you during an important transition and time in your life. She requested he stay away until you graduated. There was rationale behind her request and he agreed, though it tortured him to wait longer than he already had.

“Jeb was several years younger than you are now when you were born. He made some terrible choices during that time. He was a mess, heavily involved in alcohol and drugs. He was in no condition to raise a child and he knew it. He slowly turned things around and that’s how I found him, but he worried even then that he didn’t deserve you. I wonder sometimes if he still believes it. He hurt your mother deeply and he let you both down. He’s had a difficult time forgiving himself for that.”

Simone reaches across the table and touches my hand gently. “Genevieve, please give your father a chance. He wants to be in your life. He’d like to tell you this himself, but I convinced him to let me give it a try. I thought you should hear it from someone who came into the situation late and who is able to see things from the outside—two parents who care deeply for their child, struggling to do what is best. Like every parent, they made mistakes.
We
made mistakes. Please try to forgive us. Your father loves you.”

I shake my head, not understanding any of this. “How do you leave your child behind? How could he care and still do that?”

“He should have found a way to be a part of your life. At the time, he didn’t believe himself worthy. He thought keeping a distance while providing for your care was for the best. It’s a decision he regrets every day and has made a great effort to change.”

Now?
Now
he decides he wants in? “I’m a full-grown woman. What’s the point?”

Her shoulders loosen, her hand slipping back into her lap. She smiles. “To know you, to love you, to be there for you. We both want that. Jeb has always wanted it in his heart, even when he didn’t feel he deserved it.”

A tear escapes and I swipe it away. “I don’t trust him.”

Her pretty lower lip disappears for a moment. “He wasn’t a—
reliable
—younger man. But he learned from his mistakes and he’s a wonderful husband. Jeb is also a great father. I hope you have the opportunity to know this about him.”

She breathes in deeply. “He was extremely upset yesterday after he saw you. He’d fulfilled his promise to wait until you graduated. For the first time in your life, he took a stand for his parental rights and sought you out. Things didn’t go exactly as we had planned. Your mother sent a few pictures over the years, but nothing recent. When he saw you, he recognized you immediately. He said you look exactly like his sister. It was a shock as well as a pleasure, and his communication skills were not at their best. He worried he had caused you pain by showing up abruptly and not explaining himself.”

Simone nods at Amber, who is glaring daggers our way. She smiles and hands me a napkin with her and Jeb’s cell phone numbers written on it. “Thank you for hearing me out. We will be here for a couple of weeks.” She smiles. “My husband has a strong interest in extending our Lake Tahoe vacation.”

I take the napkin and tuck it in my cash caddy, watching the elegant woman walk out of Mont Belle Lounge. My hands are shaking, my throat so dry I can’t swallow. I bypass an angry Amber and head to Maryanne. I have to get out of here, have to convince Maryanne to let me leave early.

Maryanne shakes her head as I approach. She waves me off. “Go. Get out of here.”

I don’t know why Maryanne is so nice. Maybe she understands what I’ve had to put up with from Drake, maybe she’s been through her share of shit. Whatever it is, I’m grateful.

 

I spend the next week working out and training. I even use the temporary gym membership Lewis got me and practice climbing the rope to build my upper body strength. I manage to scale it twice without falling to my death, and the training keeps my mind off other things.

Lewis called the night Simone visited, but it was late and I didn’t get the message until the next morning. I’d gone home and immediately fallen asleep, emotionally exhausted. I spoke to him the next day and told him about the call with my mom and the visit from Jeb’s wife. He was supportive, but distant. We’ve communicated several times over the last few days, but we haven’t seen each other. My gut tells me something is off and I’m freaking out about it.

On the other hand, my mother hasn’t stopped pestering me. She has left messages threatening to show up on my doorstep. I can’t bring myself to care. If I didn’t have the mudder giving me direction, I’d be a crumbling mess. Training makes me feel strong physically, so I focus on that.

I enter the chalet after a long run—my last before I rest up for the race—to find Tyler and Cali fighting. What else is new?

“Damn you, Tyler! This TV is mine and Gen’s.” Cali holds out her hand for the remote. “You are a grumpy bastard—”

“We have the same parents, Calzone. If I’m a bastard, you’re a bastard.”

“—lowlife, jobless brother. You do not get control of the television! Hand over some of that professor income you’ve squirreled away the last couple of years and maybe we’ll let you watch what you want. If you pay for the cable, and some of the utilities—”

Tyler raises the remote she’s reaching for over her head and sits on her, flipping through the channels to the sports station.

Cali screams. “Get off me, you jackass! You weigh a ton.”

“No can do, Calzone. The bowling championships are on and it’s really not something I can miss. I’ve been watching semifinals and I don’t want to find out the results online before I catch the footage.”

She squeezes out from under him and tumbles from the couch onto the floor, panting for air. “Then stop being an Internet whore. God! When are you going to get a job and move out?”

He scratches his head. “No plans in the near future. Maybe a year?”

Cali looks to me for help and I shrug. I should be gone by then too. I’m supposed to return to my old college, Dawson, for grad school in a few weeks.

I have every reason to leave Lake Tahoe—the crap I put up with at work, the fear that Lewis will hurt me—but I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t run, wouldn’t be bullied or intimidated, or tuck tail because of a guy.

So I’ve decided to stay. Indefinitely.

From the moment I left Dawson a few months ago, I’ve doubted my decision to return for graduate school. At the time, it was because of my ex and knowing that he would be there as well, but now I have different reasons. Important reasons that have nothing to do with escaping an ex and everything to do with directing my life. I like Lake Tahoe, living with Cali, and even having Tyler around—television hogging notwithstanding. The A-hole and I were still together when I chose a school for graduate work. He was attending Dawson and I wanted to make things easy, so I chose Dawson too.

That was a shit-poor decision.

I don’t want to return to my old school. It feels like going backward. There are things I don’t like about working at Blue, but the only one that matters is Drake. If it weren’t for him, Blue would be a great way to subsidize graduate school. So I can either allow him to frighten me out of here, or I can fight him and work where I want.

I glance at Cali, who’s scowling at her brother from the floor. “Cali, if I got into the psych program at University of Nevada, Reno, could I live with you? It might sound crazy, but I’m considering working part-time at the casino and taking classes in Reno.”

Cali is no stranger to life changes. She officially turned down the prestigious law program and signed up for art classes while she works at Sallee Construction.

She rolls onto her stomach and stands. “You thinking of bailing on Dawson because of your ex?”

“No. He has nothing to do with it. I just want to move forward, you know? And I like it here.”

“You’ll have to commute during winter, and Reno’s an hour away.” Cali walks into the kitchen and pulls sandwich-making items from the fridge, along with green olives. She loves green olives. They make me gag, but I’m interested to see what’s she’s going to do with them and the sandwich fixings. Eat them as a side?

I rest my chin on my hand. “I hadn’t thought about that. You think there’ll be a lot of snow?”

She spreads mayo on the bread and adds ham and lettuce, then cuts the olives into tiny slices and places them on top. I cringe. “Yep, but a lot of programs offer online courses. Maybe you can take them during the winter months.” She cuts her sandwich in half and takes a bite.

“I’ll look into online stuff.” I watch her leerily. “Good?”

She grins, knowing how much I hate her olives.

Switching schools isn’t the easiest path to take at this point in the game, but easy and safe are overrated. I’m tired of easy. I want meaningful and happy.

Chapter Twenty-Six

A quick Internet search shows that UNR does in fact offer online graduate courses. Not everything I’d need for a degree, but enough that I could take classes from home during winter and the rest in Reno over the warmer months.

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