this way? He was supposed to love them, no matter what.
Andie struggled free of her father’s arms and went to her mother. She knelt by the chair and wrapped her arms around her. For a moment her mother held herself stiffly, then she sagged against Andie, clinging to her.
“Andie, honey,” her father said softly, patiently, “I know you’re upset, but in time you’ll understand.”
“No, I won’t.” She shook her head, her tears spilling over. “You said family was everything. The most important thing. You lied.”
“I didn’t lie. I didn’t know. Things happen. They—” He looked at his wife. “Marge, help me out here.”
She stiffened. “You did this, Dan. You. Don’t ask me to help you make it better now.”
“Fine.” He moved his gaze from Andie to her brothers, then back. “This is the way it’s going to be. I’m sorry, kids, but it just … is. When you’re older, you’ll—”
“Understand?” Andie lifted her gaze to his, heart breaking. She shook her head. “I won’t understand, Dad. And I won’t forgive you. Not ever.”
For a long moment he simply stared at her, then without another word, he turned and walked away.
3
Andie lay on her bed, dry-eyed, completely spent. Moments after her father left, she’d heard his car and had run to the window and watched him go, watching until long after his taillights had been swallowed by the night.
Gone. Just like that.
She rolled onto her side. The house was unnaturally quiet. Still. Her brothers had gone to bed some time ago; her mother was now locked in her bedroom. Usually at this time of night, Andie could hear the muted sound of a late-night talk show coming from the TV in her parents’ room or her mom and dad’s hushed conversation. Once in a while the phone would ring, or the cat would meow outside her bedroom window.
Not tonight. Tonight it was as if the world had come to an end. Nothing was left for her but her own, agonizing thoughts.
Her dad was leaving them.
He didn’t love them anymore, not enough to stay a family, anyway.
Her thoughts, the truth of them, cut like a knife. She sat up, hugging her middle. She glanced at her closed door again, thinking of her brothers, picturing their devastated faces. With a sigh, she climbed off her bed and headed out of her room and down the hall to theirs. She opened their door and peeked inside.
“Are you guys okay?”
“Fine,” Daniel answered angrily, glaring at her. “We’re not babies, you know.”
“I know. But, I … I thought you might want to talk.”
“Andie?” Pete rolled onto his side, facing her. “I don’t get it. Mom and Dad, they were always so … I mean, I thought they were …”
His voice trailed off miserably, and Andie’s heart went out to him. “I thought the same thing.” She sighed. “I guess we were wrong.”
His face pinched up with an effort not to cry. “Are we going to see Dad at all anymore?”
“I don’t know.” She looked away, then back. “He said so.”
“But he’s a liar,” Daniel said, sitting up. “He’s a stinkin’ liar. I don’t care if I ever see him again. And neither does Pete.”
But Pete did care, Andie could tell. His eyes filled with tears, and he turned quickly away. She scowled at her other brother. “Shut up, okay. You don’t know everything.”
“I know more than you.”
“You wish. You’re just a kid.”
He jerked up his chin. “Well, I know something about Dad that you don’t. It’s a secret.”
“Sure you do,” she said sarcastically. “And of course it’s a secret. That way you can’t tell me.”
“I’ll tell you. Close the door. I don’t want Mom to hear.”
Andie made a sound of annoyance but did as he asked. That done, she folded her arms across her chest. “Okay, it’s closed. What’s the big secret?”
“Dad’s got a girlfriend.”
For a moment Andie simply stared at her brother, too stunned to speak. Then she curved her hands into fists and took a step farther into the room. “You’re lying. Take it back, Daniel. Take it back now.”
“I heard him talking to her on the phone. Tonight. He told her that … he told her he loved her. Before he hung up.”
“It’s not true.” Andie struggled to breathe past the lump in her throat. “You’re making it up.”
“I heard him, too,” Pete whispered brokenly. “He said … he said that after tonight—”
“They could be together,” Daniel finished, his anger and defiance fading. “He had to take care of us first.”
“No. It’s not true.” Andie backed out of her brothers’ bedroom, shaking her head, refusing to believe them. There was an explanation for what her brothers had overheard. Her dad wouldn’t do that. He wasn’t one of those kind of men.
She snapped their door shut, wishing she had left bad enough alone. Wishing she hadn’t goaded Daniel into telling what he supposedly knew about their father. Her dad wouldn’t do that, she told herself again. He wouldn’t.
As if her thoughts had conjured him, she heard her father’s voice. She swung toward her parents’ closed bedroom door, hope surging through her. He’d changed his mind. He’d come back. He wasn’t going to leave them after all.
She raced down the hall. Pete and Daniel were wrong about what they’d heard; it was a lie. She grabbed the doorknob, ready to burst in without knocking. She stopped short at the sound of her mother’s voice.
“—take everything you want now, because I swear to God you’re not setting foot back inside this house without a court order.”
“Fine, I’ll do that.”
Andie heard the click of latches being opened. She brought a hand to her mouth. He wasn’t staying, she realized. He was packing.
“I’m really sorry, Marge. I never meant for this to happen.”
“Spare me the big apology,” her mother answered, her voice thick with tears. “I’ve given you the last twenty years of my life, and you give me ‘I’m really sorry’? No thanks.”
“What’s with the wounded surprise? This has been coming for months. Years, really. It’s been over for a long time.”
“You
