Page 79 of The Déjà Glitch
Her throat instantly tightened with emotion. She turned to face the wall and leaned her head against it.
“Hi, Dad.”
He paused. “Hi, Gemma. Is everything okay?”
She wasn’t sure if he asked because of the emotion straining her voice or because she never called him, ever, and a desperate emergency was a likely scenario for reaching out.
“Um, yeah. Everything is okay.” She paused to find her voice and the right words. “I’m at Nigel’s show, backstage, and I wanted to say... thank you.”
She settled on those two words alone because what he had done ran deeper than having Nick’s band pulled. He had finally put her first. He had chosen her after a lifetime of prioritizing himself. It would take her time to figure out how to fully acknowledge the sudden appearance of something so important, but she could at least start.
He released a heavy breath that sounded like relief on many levels. “I’m sorry, Gemma. For earlier. For... too many things I could possibly ever make up for. You deserve better than I’ve treated you your whole life. You’re right: none of this is worth it without the people I love to share it with. I don’t know that I deserve your forgiveness, but I’m going to work for it.”
Her throat squeezed tighter, and she felt liquid warm her eyes. Her mother’s words about forgiveness came back to her. It was up to her, she knew that. She’d always known that. Her father had just always made it so easy not to forgive. But this gesture meant something. It meant something big.
“I think it’s going to take a while, Dad, but this is a good start.”
A weight settled on the line as her words landed. She heard her father breathe in deeply as if a chronic ache was easing ever so slightly. “Thank you for being honest with me, Gemma. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you couldn’t be. And I’m sorry for not seeing how Nick hurt you.”
She realized in that moment that she was getting an apology from someone who really mattered in her life. Despite all the pain he’d caused her, she didn’t need one from Nick. She didn’t need anything from Nick. The realizationfelt like liberation from the previous year of being heartbroken over him. A weight she didn’t even know she’d been carrying lifted from her shoulders. She felt free.
She quietly laughed and pressed her fingertips into the cool wall. Sounds from the stage vibrated inside it. “You should have seen his face, Dad.”
Her father echoed her quiet laugh, and she liked that they were sharing a secret. “Oh, I’m sure he wasn’t happy.” He paused and came back on a serious note. “I’m sorry I didn’t pay closer attention, Gemma. I should have seen the role I played in all this. When you left this afternoon, you were so upset, and it was the only thing I could think of to do. I had to make some calls, but sounds like it all worked out?”
“It did, yes. And I ran into Nigel a minute ago; he didn’t seem surprised by the lineup change.”
Her father paused again. “Yes, well, news travels fast in this industry, doesn’t it.”
She smiled at the thought of all the calls her father had made for her benefit—and against his own. And she realized that giant, expensive, outlandish gestures like asking rock stars for favors and offering to charter private flights was how her father knew how to fix things. The world he lived in had different rules than hers, but he was trying to bridge the gap between them in the ways he knew how.
Perhaps she could start to make room for it.
“Thank you, Dad. Really.”
“Of course, Gemma.”
It was a tiny step, but it was in the right direction.
“Have you talked to your brother lately?” he asked. “Hetexted me a while ago to say he’s still on standby in New York.”
“Oh my god, Patrick!” Gemma said with a gasp. In all the mayhem of the evening, she had forgotten to check in with him. Again. Guilt washed over her. The poor guy was still stranded at the airport, trying to get home to her.
“I have to go, Dad,” she said in a rush.
“All right. Have a good time at the show.”
“I will, thank you!” she said, and ended the call. She furiously tapped her screen to bring up Patrick’s number.
“Gemma?” He answered after three rings, sounding like she’d woken him up.
“Patrick! Are you still at the airport?”
Muffled sounds of him moving around came through the phone. He grumbled and took a deep breath. “What time is it? Ouch! Shit, these chairs are not made for sleeping...”
She pictured his lanky body pretzeled into a ball on an airport chair, his hair sticking up from having fallen asleep at an angle. “It’s almost nine here, so you’re close to midnight.”
“Oh god,” he groaned.