"School was fine," she said with a long, drawn-out groan. "Why are you, like, interviewing me? What is this?" She waved her hands in the air dramatically, the bracelets on her wrists clinking together.
The attitude in her tone stung me. Had she not missed me at all? Was I so easy to live without? "What do you mean, interviewing you? I’m asking you about your life. I haven't seen you in weeks, kiddo."
"I'm not a kid, Dad," she whined. "Please stop calling me that."
"Okay, fine. I haven't seen you in weeks, Rory, and you can’t even give me a hug? Haven’t you missed me? You haven’t called, and I know that thing is always attached to your palm. What is going on with you?”
“I’ve been busy, Dad. I have school and friends.”
“You’re never too busy for your dad.” I teased. “Just, promise you’ll call once or twice a week. Even just a text to let me know you’re still alive…that you haven’t forgotten who I am or run off and become some YouTube sensation.”
Her face tinged scarlet. “Have you been watching my vlog?”
I laughed. “It’s the only time I get to see you anymore.”
Her hands went down to her sides defiantly. “Dad,” she whined with an extra syllable on the a, “that’s so embarrassing. Stay off my channel.”
“I can’t make any promises, but I can try to avoid watching if you’ll give me a hug and promise to call.”
“Fine.” She leaned in for a halfhearted hug to appease me, one arm still at her side.
"What's Vivi doing here anyway?"
"She's liv—" She stopped short, pulling away from me with a petrified look on her face.
"What is it?"
"She didn't tell you?" she asked quietly.
"Tell me what?"
"Dad, Vivi moved in last week. She's staying here permanently."
"Perma—no." I shook my head. "What about her condo? She can't be living here permanently. What will happen when I move back in?"
Rory raised her eyebrows as if to say, not my problem, but instead chose, "No idea." She glanced down as her phone buzzed again, tapping away at the screen as I shut the door behind me. "Do you want me to tell her you're here, or…" She trailed off, not bothering to look up at me.
"No, that's okay. I'll talk to her. You said she's out back?"
"Mhm." She waved her hand in the general direction of the backyard, walking away from me and down the hall toward her room.
"I'll come find you before I leave. I want to catch up."
She didn't respond, and I heard her door shut a few moments later, leaving me in the quiet of the house alone. I walked down the hall and into the kitchen, noticing the pristine sink as I moved past it. If I needed it, that was further proof that Vivienne was, in fact, living there.
When I'd been at home, weekday evenings were always filled with piled-up dishes and rushing through dinner. Vivienne was ever the homemaker and, as she said all too often, she could never dream of sitting down in a messy house.
As I made my way through the kitchen, then the dining room and toward the back door, I spied Addy's phone lying on the baker's rack where the bowl of car keys and other random odds and ends sat. When I'd been living here, she didn't go anywhere without her phone.
Why had she changed for her mom, but not me?
I knew I had so much to be blamed for in the downfall of our marriage, but, at least to myself, I would not accept sole responsibility.
Without another glance at her phone, I knocked on the screen door that led outside, feeling stupid as soon as I'd done it, but it had worked. Addy’s and Vivienne's heads cocked back in unison, looking to seek out the disturbance. They were sitting in the wrought iron patio chairs on the paved patio in the backyard. The built-in fire pit was between them, though it had no fire in it.
I stuck my head out the door, waving my hand awkwardly. "Sorry to interrupt."
"Wes, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?" Addy asked, putting a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun.
"Yeah, everything's fine. Sorry. I didn't realize you had company. Hello, Vivienne."
"Hello, Wesley. How are things?"
"Things are fine," I said stiffly, spying my favorite mug in her hand. #1 Dad, it read. Why hadn't I taken that with me? "Can I borrow Addy for just a sec?"
She didn't answer, looking at Addy, who stood from the chair with a sigh and headed in my direction. She was still dressed from work, her hair tied back the way it often was when she had to focus.
She pulled the door back and stepped inside, and I watched Vivienne lift up the plum Kindle that had been lying next to her chair before I shut the door.
Addy studied me, her face pale. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing. I told you. I just wanted to talk."
"You could've called."
"You don't answer when I call," I told her.
"You ever think maybe there's a reason for that?"
"What if there'd been an accident, Addy? Even if you're mad at me, you still need to take my calls. We can be adults about this, can't we?"
"Was there an accident?" she asked skeptically.
"No, there wasn't, but there could've been."
"I've told you I need space, Wes, but you keep calling and stopping by. How is that giving me space?"
I inhaled, taking a half step back to regroup. I didn’t want to fight with her. The conversation had to be redirected. "You told me you were going to talk to Rory about coming to stay with me. Did you do that?"
"Not yet, no. I wanted to give you a few days to get things figured out and yourself settled in first.”
I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask the next question, nor did I know how to bring it up, so I just spat out,
