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It’s my own little world. When I’m sitting in that chair, the massive semicircle desk surrounding me, I’m in charge. I slipped right into the work; even professional Claudia was impressed with how quickly I picked up my tasks. I switch on my computer, ready to work on the new letterhead I’m creating for our paperwork to go out on.
“Hello, Tina.” I smile at my companion.
Pink and green leaves greet me each morning, peeking over the top of the matching blush pink pot. A Tradescantia Nanouk purchased on my second day of work from a little gift shop I was passing by. I can’t pronounce the official name, so I’ve named her Tina. She’s watered once a week, as recommended on the tag she came with.
I’m just settling into some filing when Rockwell comes bursting from the hallway. He looms over my desk, his gaze resting on me. “I have to tell you something. Sit down.”
“Um… I am sitting down.” I glance down at the armrests of the office chair that cradle me.
“It’s important. I was going to wait, but it feels wrong. I need to tell you now.”
“Okay.” He doesn’t look well. “Should you sit down?”
Standing, I guide him over to the lobby. We sit down side by side in the plush leather chairs. What can he have to tell me? “Is this an update on the car?”
He nods. “Yes.”
“Oh, good. Right?” I stare at him, willing him to share what information he has.
“The car doesn’t belong to your ex. We’re still keeping an eye on that situation, though.” He looks away, fiddling with the hem of his suit jacket.
Was I just paranoid? Thinking that sedan was parked outside my apartment window when it wasn’t meant for me?
“Who does the car belong to?” I press.
He drags his eyes up to meet mine. “Your father.” He holds my gaze, letting his words sink in.
Disbelief fills me. I haven’t even thought of my parents in years. Not really. “What?”
“He’s left your mom. He says…” Rockwell corrects himself, “He claims your mother and him always fought over the way they left you. He says it never sat right with him. After all these years it sounds like he’s kept tabs on you. He knew when you graduated from college, where you lived. Found out you worked here. He’s rented a car and was staying in the city until he felt like the right time had come to tell you.”
“What?” I say again.
“There’s more.” He takes my cold, shaking hands in his warm, protective ones. “He’s been convicted of crimes in the UK.”
“What?” Thankfully he doesn’t mention my one-word-only vocabulary as I parrot in shock. Trying to sound as if I’m somewhat with it in this moment, I piece together a complete sentence. “What was he convicted of?”
“He faced some drug charges. He was in a low security prison in Wales. He managed to escape, coming here under a false identity, papers he’d paid to have made.” He squeezes my hand. “I don’t know if what he says is true, but he’s telling us that he did it all, the new identity, the escape, because he wanted to come apologize to you in person before he’s put behind bars. He said he didn’t know if he’d ever get the chance.”
“Okay. Alright,” I murmur. I stare straight ahead. Today he’s wearing the pinstripe button-down shirt with the blue tie and blazer that go with his eyes. I take a deep breath, trying to absorb all this information.
Finally, I look up at him with trusting eyes. “What do I do?” I ask.
“He wants to see you,” he says.
“I first saw the car weeks ago.” I shake my head, so many questions swirling in my mind. “How on earth has he managed to avoid the law for all this time in New York?”
“I’m not sure. But we didn’t turn him over to the authorities. Not yet. We were waiting to see if you wanted to meet with him first.”
“Where is he now?” I ask.
“Seeing as he’s your father and you’re a friendly, we’ve kept him at one of our safehouses until you decide what to do.”
It’s my responsibility to figure out what trajectory my father’s life will take? Fear prickles at the back of my neck. I don’t want any of this to be my responsibility.
“Me?” I shake my head in disbelief. “I don’t know what to do.”
“It’s your decision. There’s no right or wrong answer. You get to decide.” He reaches out, smoothing my hair back from my face. “But if you want to see him, I’ll be right there by your side.”
