Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 417(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
It was a start. Things didn’t get broken overnight in our family, and they wouldn’t get fixed that way either. But for the first time, I had faith they’d get better.
“I want us to go to family therapy together,” I told him. “Me, you, and Mom. I’ll go on my own too, but if we’re going to do this, it won’t be fixed overnight. We have to work on it. Together.”
I waited for him to look at me in outrage, to say no or make an excuse, but he didn’t. Dad just said, “I can do that. I’ll put in the work. That’s something we’re both good at.”
Yes, it was.
“Will you play with me?” Dad nodded toward the piano.
And that was exactly what we did. I poured myself a drink, and then we sat down to play together. I’d never played with my father before.
When Maddy and Mom came back, they watched us, smiled, cried. Mom and I talked too, and she apologized for not being there for me more, for letting me feel like Dad was more important. She vowed to do better, and she was actually looking forward to the idea of family therapy. Dad apologized again, this time to both me and Maddy. The two of them would have more to discuss together as well.
Nothing had magically changed. There was work to do, but we’d laid the foundation, which was more than I thought would ever happen.
When I went home, Ryder was waiting for me. We cooked dinner together, laughed and talked and loved.
I’d spent my life pretending to be okay, pretending to be happy, and now, for the first time, I truly was.
Epilogue
Ryder
Five years later
Layla had a whole row of people there for her. Her grandma, Crystal, Hutch, me, Luke, Violet, and all the Hutchinsons and Lynwoods, all to watch a very special twelve-year-old girl at her piano recital. Like always, she ate that shit up. Layla loved the attention, and it was impossible not to want to give it to her. She and Luke had both become part of our families. They’d both been healthy and cancer-free for years, living normal, happy lives the way they deserved. Luke was studying psychology at Georgia State University, Layla was rocking middle school, and things were good. Better than good.
We watched her with rapt attention, from the first song to the last, before shoving to our feet and clapping. Hutch looked at her like a proud father might, the two of them sharing an unbreakable bond.
“You did awesome, twerp!” Luke said to her when the performance was over.
“I hate it when you call me that.”
“Nah, I think you secretly love it.” He winked, and she rolled her eyes at him. “On that note…I have a date to get to.” Luke waggled his eyebrows at me.
“Be safe.”
“Yes, Dad,” he teased. I wasn’t sure who he was dating at the moment. Luke came out as pansexual when he was eighteen. He’d dated quite a bit, like he was supposed to at his age, figuring out life and himself. He also spent time volunteering at You Belong and was a vocal LGBTQ activist—specifically a trans activist. We couldn’t have been more proud of him. “Bye, everyone. See you later. I’ll call you this week, Ryder,” he told me before kissing Layla on the temple and going on his way.
“I can’t believe how much he’s grown up!” Mads said. “Both of you.” She smiled at Layla. Mads lived in London and was thriving there, happy and healthy. She visited often, eventually bringing home her boyfriend, Claude, who was now her fiancé. Later this summer, we’d all be heading to England for the wedding.
“Thanks, Aunt Maddy!” Layla replied.
“Dude, you kicked ass,” Kins told her, because of course she wouldn’t think to watch her language.
“Kinsley!” Mom said.
“Do you not know me by now?” my sister asked. “I’m not changing anytime soon.”
Her husband put his arm around her and whispered something in her ear, which made her blush.
“We should go,” Crystal finally said. “Layla has school in the morning.”
The group of us walked out together, Layla and her family leaving first.
“Are we going golfing this weekend, Grant?” my dad asked Hutch’s.
“I’m free on Saturday. Hutch? Ryder?” Grant turned to us. It hadn’t been an easy road by any stretch of the imagination. Grant was still Grant. He thought he knew everything, and he liked to be in control, but there was no doubt he loved his family, his son. They got along much better than they used to. It had taken him longer to be okay with me again, but we made it work. The truth was, we were family. We loved the same people, and that wasn’t going to change. He and Dad had rekindled their friendship, and while business was an ongoing issue, it was clear they’d missed each other and truly cared about each other.