XXXII. Explanations-2

"No!" Mom retorted. "Don't you dare blame me for this! I was a kid, too! I was a scared kid with a baby to protect and all that was going on around me was danger!" "I would have neverlet anything happen to either of you!" Dad snapped. "Don't you get it? Don't you know how I feel about you?" "You were showing Sara off to everyone saying that she was your heir!" Mom shot back. "How is that not putting her in danger?" "I was proud!"Dad exclaimed. "I had a beautiful, perfect kid, and I was showing her off to my friends! And yes, whether you like it or not, she is my heir!" Dad suddenly stopped. "Wait, was that it? Was that why you left me?" Mom's lower lip was trembling, as though she was going to break down any minute. "I can't do this right now. I'm late for work." She began to frantically look around her for her car keys, which were on the floor by the kitchen counter near where she had fainted. "Amanda, please." Dad reached out to her, coming before her in half a second and taking her hand. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." As soon as he touched her, she burst into tears and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him so tightly she might have choked him. He reciprocated immediately, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the crook of her neck. Mom was trembling as she cried. "I hate you. I hate you," she kept repeating. But I could tell by her tone that she didn't mean it. She didn't hate him one bit. I quietly crept off the couch and made my way towards the kitchen to find Mom's phone. There was no way she could work today. Let alone even drive in her current state. I found it on the kitchen floor, near her keys, and by some miracle the screen hadn't smashed. I found her boss' number and made up an excuse concerning me. She spent all day looking after other's people's kids. Surely one more day looking after her own was permissible. Seconds after I hit send, I heard my name being cried. "Sara!" from Mom. "Saraphine!" from Dad. They both began to lecture me about being on my feet, and I could help but smile like an idiot. Parents, plural, telling me what to do. I knew this would get old pretty fast, but I loved it. Dad picked me up and carried me back over to the couch. He set me down gently and Mom adjusted the cushions behind me so that I was comfortable. As they were kneeling down together and fussing, I could help but notice how easily they worked together. Their movement together seemed natural and fluid. And then Mom suddenly stopped. "Where the hell have you been all this time?" she demanded to know. I looked to Dad as well. I was curious, too. More than curious, seeing as I was fairly certain we had met once before. "New York," he replied simply. Mom blinked and furrowed her eyebrows. "What?" Taking a deep breath, Dad said, "After everything that happened, I couldn't stay in Providence, I couldn't live in our house, I couldn't see my friends with their mates and their children knowing what I had lost. But I had an obligation so long as I was alive to lead them. And it was an all too easy out letting them believe that I was dead. With the headspace I was in, I couldn't think of anything else to do. I followed you and Saraphine to New York." He had been in New York the whole time? Was that what he was saying? I suddenly remembered him telling me coyly that he had never been far. Shit, was that what he meant? "I purchased a fake identity from someone affiliated with my people under a pseudonym and got work as a contractor. I was always good with my hands." Mom shook her head and held her hand up. "You were in New York?" she checked. "While we were?" She gestured to me. Dad nodded. "I needed to make sure you both were safe. You two were all I had." Mom readjusted so that she was sitting down on the floor and leaning back against the couch. She brought her knees up to her chest and leant her head down. "My med school tuition," she murmured, the sound muffled as she hid her face. "I got a scholarship that I never applied for." "I did really well as a contractor in the city. I wanted to help you." "And the mortgage for the house in Bedford. I wasn't approved until I got a phone call telling me the bank had reconsidered," she added another recollection. "I put up the collateral," Dad replied calmly. "Sara's day care, her school fees … oh my God, I'm such an idiot. There aren't packages and assistance for moms who are students." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "You're not an idiot," Dad said firmly. "You're always the smartest one in the room. You just needed help." She turned her head then, staring at him with angry, hurt eyes. "What I needed was my husband." Dad sucked in a breath. "You told me the opposite, Amanda," he reminded her painfully. "You told me you were miserable. You couldn't go to the college you wanted. You couldn't have the life you wanted if you were with me. I was a danger to you. A danger to our daughter." His voice cracked then, as if the idea of him being dangerous to me nearly killed him. "You left me before any of this happened. You practically fucking gift wrapped the knife as you drove it into my chest. So, I thought I was doing what you wanted while still being near enough to you to satisfy my instinct to protect you. I couldn't show my face to you. I barely survived your rejection once. I honestly don't know what will happen to me when it happens again." "Stop!" I cried, capturing both of their attention instantly. "If I have learned anything throughout this whole ordeal it's that your family is precious. Losing them is gut wrenching, and getting them back … well, if that's not a miracle, then I don't know what is." I smiled at my dad, who's expression softened tenderly.