Chapter 39

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February 13th

Apparently Waitress' overarching message of family and motherhood had really touched Frederick Chase, father of the year. While the rest of his family boarded a plane back home, he insisted on getting a later flight in order to spend some time with his daughter.

Annabeth doesn't quite believe it when he asks to meet her for brunch before her matinee.

That's how they end up at the quaint little cafe that she'd met Percy at all those months ago. Her father looks so out of place in his smart trousers and a tweed blazer as if the vine wall behind him was going to grow in place around his stony stature, enveloping him in its twisted grip like the man eating plant in Little Shop of Horrors. It seems he's looking at just about anything except at her and his words sound robotic and rehearsed.

"You gave a truly outstanding performance, Annabeth, of course." His eyes flicker around the room uncomfortably. That's one thing Annabeth wishes she had inherited from her father, his eyes. Her own were harsh and cold but her fathers were a warm brown with flecks of amber, reminding her of the nights she spent as a child on his knee as they flicked through TV channels in search of their favorite documentaries.

She flashed a tight smile. "Thanks, dad."

Something in the way he returns the smile and takes a bite of a potato fry feels tense and unnatural. It makes sense when he starts speaking again. "Dear, I just wanted to ask a favour of you."

There's the catch.

"The boys will be turning fifteen soon and I just wanted to make sure you're on the same page as your mother and I." Frederick must have noticed Annabeth's visible discomfort when he called her that. That woman wasn't her mother, she was Matthew and Bobby's mother. Not hers. "You and that boyfriend of yours - Percy is it? - I'm sure he's lovely, darling, but he brings so much bad press with him."

"What are you getting at?"

Frederick winces. "Annabeth, I'm not telling you to call it off with the boy, you're your own person after all, always have been. But the boys are older now and we don't want any of your..." He waves his hand in the air between them. "...issues to tarnish their reputation. They're going to want to go to a good college and the last thing they need is one of your reporters to write a headline about them."

Trying to blink back the tears that prick behind her eyes, Annabeth presses her lips together and bows her head, unable to look at him. Yet again she had let her father walk back into life with the belief that he would finally take notice of her and yet again he had pulled the rug from under her feet. By now she should've learnt not to get her hopes up to begin with. Frederick shuffled awkwardly at the other end of the table, waiting for her to speak.

"My issues?" Despite her best efforts, her voice broke with emotion. "What do you suggest I do? I'm not sixteen anymore, dad, I can't just emancipate you and be done with." He opens his mouth to speak but she's lost every ounce of patience she had with him. Annabeth stands and starts to put her jacket on, fishing out a twenty dollar bill and placing it besides her unfinished food. "No, it's fine. The boys won't need to get tangled up with me, I'm ever so sorry I caused you trouble. I should go. You wouldn't want to be seen with your own daughter now, would you?"

As she turns to leave, he calls out to her. She pauses but doesn't turn. A moment later, she relaxes her shoulders, lifts her chin and walks away.

~~~

He answers on the third ring and his face appears on her screen.

"Annabeth, hey, I didn't expect you to - whoa, are you crying? What's wrong?" The moment he speaks, a fresh wave of tears fall down her cheeks and Annabeth is grateful she hadn't yet done her stage makeup.

From what she can see through her blurry eyes and spotty connection, she thinks he must be in a hotel room. She can make out a freshly made bed behind him, sheets white and blinding.

She laughs bitterly. "My dad. I told you he visited to watch the show last night? There was a catch."

Percy's a good listener and Annabeth talks his ear off, ranting about every instance her father had gotten on her nerves. She rattles of years worth of frustrations. Throughout her seemingly endless monologue, he sits with a patient, sympathetic smile and speaks up in all the right moments.

When she feels calmer, she sticks out her bottom lip in a pout. "I wish you were here. Or I were there. Whereabouts are you tonight?"

"Berlin. And I wish I was with you too. Especially for tomorrow. I know you claim to hate all the sappy Valentine's antics but secretly you love it." They've been talking so long that Selina was now working on his hair as they talked, struggling to tame his wild mane.

Annabeth rolls her eyes to avoid replying but he understands.

"We'll rearrange, Beth, you and me can have our own Valentine's Day. How does March sound? Or April? I promise you that when the tour's over and we're all settled, I'll take to you Paris." He grins as if it's all one big joke but her heart soars.

She thinks about the promise throughout her performance. Whenever Jenna was distant and frustrated, Annabeth channelled whatever pent up anger she had left for her dad, but when she was supposed to be happy and in love, she reminded herself of Percy. Of his promise. The necklace he gave her for Christmas makes her skin tingle beneath her collar. Whether he had meant it to be or not, it was a promise of permanence. Of lasting. Their relationship was going to last until Paris and the next promise after that and the one after that. And somehow it was okay. Even when the permanence scared her and felt like a weight on her chest, it was okay. She could see herself having a life with Percy, though she didn't know what that would entail. The thought was simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating.

The next time she saw Percy, she would make sure he knew. Permanence was okay. Maybe the necklace was their own promise ring after all.

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