Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111732 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 559(@200wpm)___ 447(@250wpm)___ 372(@300wpm)
“I’m always really worried about Ripley,” I say. “It weighs on me, Dad. I can never relax.” Dad knows what I mean. Our beautiful Ripley was born prematurely and with a congenital heart defect, and I’ve been a nervous wreck about her from day one. For a while there, every little cough and sneeze sent me racing with her to the hospital for a check-up. And then, we discovered she had some auditory processing issues and needed speech therapy. So, that made me worry, yet again. Frankly, when it comes to Ripley, there’s never been a time when I’ve been able to sit back and relax, other than our family lakeshore days. But even then, I’m constantly wishing Mom were with us, so even those days aren’t totally carefree. I say, “I think Ripley’s having a problem with her eyesight lately. Have you noticed she’s squinting hard to see things that aren’t two inches in front of her face?”
“Now that you mention it, yeah, she has been squinting a lot. Let’s take her to get her eyes checked this week.”
I exhale. “Okay, yes, let’s do that.”
Dad pats my hand. “And let’s also agree on a solid plan for you and me.” When I look at him expectantly, Dad says, “I know how much you value your independence, but I think you and Ripley should move in here with me. You know Mrs. Leibowicz across the street? She told me there’s an amazing preschool nearby. They have specialists that work there. People with expertise for kids with learning disabilities. If you lived here, it’d be convenient to take her there, whenever she’s ready to start preschool.”
“We’re not ready for that yet. I don’t think we’d do that for at least a year.”
“Well, that’s good because the place has a long wait list, apparently. But why wait till then? Move in here now, honey, and let’s start working on ourselves together. We’ll go to grief counseling. We’ll support each other. Plus, I’ll be able to watch Ripley for you, as you try to build your business.”
My heart is racing. “How much does that preschool cost? Ripley’s heart medications are so expensive, I’m not sure—”
“Honey, I’ll pay for preschool and whatever else Ripley needs. That’s yet another reason for you to move in here with me. The money you save on rent can go to other expenses. Even better, I’ll pay for Ripley’s expenses while you start a college fund for her with what you would have spent on rent every month.”
It sounds like heaven. But still, I’m reluctant to be a burden to my father. I push back. Ask him if he’s sure. And he replies that he’d love nothing more than to have Ripley and me here. He says, “Don’t say yes because of this, okay? But I’ve been really lonely. I’d love to have you both here, all the time.”
I hug him and thank him profusely for his generous offer. “I agree we should go to grief counseling together,” I say. “I’d also like to start therapy for myself. To figure out why I’m always chasing emotionally unavailable men. I’ve got the best father in the world, so why am I attracted to men who don’t want a future with me? I need to figure this out, so I’m attracted to the right kind of men when I start looking for a long-term partner. I don’t want to expose Ripley to anyone who isn’t going to be a wonderful daddy to her, in addition to being a wonderful partner to me. If I can’t find that, I’d rather be alone.”
He smiles. “That sounds good. I’m sure Mrs. Leibowicz will watch Ripley whenever we go to counseling together. And I’d be happy to watch her for you, so you can work on yourself.” He winks. “Although, to me, you’re already perfect.”
I laugh. “Thanks, Dad. I’m far from it.”
We talk some more and nail down some logistics and timing for my big move. And soon, it’s settled. Ripley and I are moving in, and Dad and I are both going to work hard on ourselves.
“When it’s time for Ripley to go to kindergarten, we’ll reassess our living situation, okay?” I say. “By then, you might have a whole new life and your daughter and granddaughter might be cramping your style.”
“Cramping my style?” Dad says, looking genuinely confused.
I nudge his arm. “You might be dating by then.” When Dad scoffs, I add, “Anything is possible, especially a year or two from now.” When Dad rolls his eyes, I ask, “You’re not even tempted to get back out there?”
“God, no.”
“If you’re at all tempted, I recently met a lovely woman in a yoga class. I think you’d—"
“No, honey. Thank you for the thought. But I’m not even close to ready. Maybe someday. But not any time soon.”