I can’t really argue with that, so I look down at the sand.
“After you… after your…” He swallows hard. “When you went to Horizons, I literally didn’t think I had the capacity to help you. I had failed your mother, and I had failed you. I was so scared, Daisy. You have no idea, the panic… I thought if you went there, those people could help you. And I could get you into school at ETU and make sure you had anything you needed. I had no idea that what you needed was the same thing you always had. Of course you went chasing off after those boys this summer. They always gave you what I couldn’t.”
I have no idea what to say to that. Did I chase the Ransome boys because my father wasn’t affectionate? And if that’s true, should it change the way I view my relationship with Daltrey? Was it somehow not as real?
“It’s a problem for me, Daisy, that when something goes wrong in your life, your response is to go to someone who isn’t me. That you would rather come here with some kid I barely know than let me help you.”
“It’s not like that.” I dig my fingers into the sand. “I just… I couldn’t come home and be so close to where everything happened. It wasn’t about you at all.”
“Then I should have been the one to help you find a safe place. Do you honestly think that I wouldn’t have taken time off work? That I wouldn’t have come to get you and take you away?”
“I just… I just feel…”
“You can say it, Daisy.”
“I just feel like you would rather throw money at my problems than deal with me as a person.” I say it in a rush, feeling like a bitch the whole time. It’s a terrible thing to say to my father. But it’s also true.
“Daisy…”
“Like, when you were taking me to therapy, you couldn’t even look at me. And after my… suicide attempt, you were so eager to send me off to that hospital that was so far away. And for me to stay in Tennessee for school once I got out.”
My dad puts his arms around me. “I love you more than anything else in the world. If something would have happened to you, if I hadn’t gotten there in time that night, my life would be over, Daisy. I would have nothing. I might not have reacted the right way—I know that—but all I could think about was getting you help. Making you safe.”
I can tell from his voice that he’s crying, and the knowledge shocks me more than anything else I’ve heard today. My dad never cries.
“I missed you. Every day that you were gone. I missed your voice and your face… and your…” His body shakes with sobs. “Your smile. I missed you. I still do.”
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I whisper, squeezing my eyes shut. All the guilt I’ve been feeling for the past year is crashing over me, making it hard to breathe. Every bit of shame I’ve felt for the weakness of that night is piling up on my chest. “I’m so sorry you had to find me like that.”
“It’s not your—”
“It is my fault. I tried to call out to you right before I passed out.”
“Daisy, I heard you. That’s why I came to the bathroom. Didn’t you know that?”
I shake my head. “All I could think about was that you were going to find me, just like Mom, and I hated myself for it.”
“Shh, sweetheart. I never blamed you. You were sick, Daisy. And going through terrible things. That’s not something to be ashamed of.”
I pull back, wiping my face with my shirtsleeves and shaking my head. “Of course it is. I feel ashamed every day. All I could think about that night was how weak I was, how I was just like her. And I was right. I am weak—”
“Stop it.” His voice is low, almost angry. “You are not weak. And neither was she. She was sick, Daisy. That’s all. I’ve spent half my life wondering why I couldn’t help her. And you know what? That’s gotten me nowhere. The only thing I got from blaming myself is a distance between myself and my daughter.” He meets my eyes. “I need to give up that guilt, Daisy, and so do you. You need to forgive yourself.”
“But look at me, Dad.” I hold out my arms. “I still don’t have my shit together. Things got nuts, and what did I do? I ran. I ran and I hid.”
He shrugs. “So that’s what you needed to do to deal with it in that moment. It doesn’t mean you’ll hide forever.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You sound a lot like Dr. Jacobs.”
He smiles a little. “I may have talked with her a few times this week.”
I grin, the thought amusing me. “Did she give you pointers in talking to emotionally volatile teenagers?”