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So, from the time I turned sixteen, there was one man I turned to for the stuff a kid needs a dad for — the one who taught me how to change a tire, tie a fly, and fix a leaky sink.
I tapped my knuckles at the flimsy glass of the kitchen door at Faith’s dad’s house as I peeked inside for him, and he waved me in as he came around the corner from the living room. “Come on in, son.”
Jerking my eyes at him as I shut the door behind me, I motioned to the garage with my thumb. “You mind unlocking the building for me?” The top of his tackle box closed, and he ignored me to take the last sip of his coffee. “I told Faith I’d grab some of her things while she was at work today.”
He slid his red metal box away from him and pushed his hand into his pocket as he came around the table. “No problem whatsoever. I was about to head outside, anyway.” Still a bit pissed at him for keeping the secret so long the more I thought about it, I crossed my arms and moved out of his way as he passed me. “So, she said yes. Did she?”
Pulling the door back open for him, I shrugged at him in the glass. “Looks that way.”
Smiling at the keychain he pulled from his pants, he nodded as he flipped through the pile of old keys while we walked across the driveway. “Good.” He held the padlock and wiggled the key inside as he peeked at me over the top of his glasses. “I’m happy for you both. Truly.”
When he jerked open the lock, I pulled the carriage-style door away. My mother being a lying weasel didn’t surprise me much, but Otis teaming up with her against me like that stung more than I liked to admit. “Are you sure about that?”
Like Faith does when I want to discuss something uncomfortable, he wrinkled his nose and sniffed at the piles of plastic bins to avoid the question a second more. “I always did like you, Dom.” Pulling the stool from his workbench, he puffed his cheek and slid onto the seat. “But when Faith came home and told me what your mother had done to her,” — his hand flipped up from his knee — “I decided I didn’t want her mixed up in all that drama.”
Scoffing air from my nose, I rolled my eyes away when I lifted the lid from the first bin. But he leaned aside to make me listen to him explain, anyway. “I wasn’t going to let her take on someone who hated her as much as your mother did.” Wagging his finger between us, he chugged a laugh and twisted from side to side with his foot against the bottom rung. “No way in hell would I set someone as tender-hearted as Faith up for a fight like that. Your mother would have crushed her like an empty beer can.”
I clicked the lid back on and set it by my feet as I shook my head at him, barely even able to speak through the tightness in my throat. “You know how beat up I was over losing her.” Shaking my head away to the house where I spent so much time pouring my heart out to him, I laid my hand on my chest. “Didn’t you think I loved her enough to stand up to Mom for her?”
He nodded back at me, that curly white eyebrow arching. “Yes. But I also thought you were an eighteen-year-old kid with a full ride to college who had too much on his plate without adding my daughter to your list of responsibilities.” I stacked another bin beside me as he fished a cigar from his shirt pocket. “So, I did what I thought was best for both of you.”
The months after I lost Faith were the hardest I ever faced in my life, even to this day.
I had about a thousand smart-ass comments and questions I wanted answers to. But when I spun around and put my hands on my hips, there was only one thing I really wanted to know — and only her father could answer it for me. “And what about now, sir? Do you think I’m man enough to take care of your daughter now?”
A cloud of smoke came between us, and he nodded as he rolled the cigar to the other side of his mouth with his teeth. “Yes. I do believe you are.” He climbed down from his seat with a groan and pointed at me as he came closer. “But more importantly,” — he yanked a bin open to peek inside and put the top back on — “I think Faithy is grown enough to take care of herself now.”
After he laid the bin on top of the ones I set aside, he slapped my cheek gently. “You always had my stamp of approval, Dom. But now you have my blessing, too.”
Though Otis saw me cry like a baby a dozen times those weeks before I left for college, I cleared my throat and bit my lip to hold it back this time. It was like the man of all men was telling me I was welcome to his club now, and I didn’t want to disappoint him. “Thank you for saying that. I won’t let either of you down.”
Shoving his stogie back into his mouth, he murmured at me around it. “I know that.” His eyes slid to the bins. “All this other mess is just books and papers and such. I’ll bring them over some evening when you’re both free for dinner.” His hand came between us, and he winked when I took it. “Congratulations, son — on the house and the girl. You deserve them both.”
No, he didn’t keep a roof over my head or anything, but Otis was as much a parent to me as the ones who did. So when he let me go, I grabbed the top two bins and flicked my eyebrows at him on my way out the door. “I’m off Wednesday through Saturday, and the dart board I ordered should be here tomorrow. Just let yourself in, Dad.”
The old radio popped on, and static mixed with his old honky-tonk music as he tuned it in. “See you then.”
I slid the bins toward the rear of my truck bed and wiped the dust off my hands as I went back for the rest, hoping the next thing on my list of stuff to do today went as well as this one.
43
Difficult
Dominic
Most weekday afternoons, my mother lunched and went shopping with her friends for as long as I could remember. But since I sneaked in to grab my things today, hoping to bypass her completely, she was in the garden when I pulled up to the guest house.
Dusting off her knees when I closed the door, she grinned as I jerked my chin at her. “Hey.”
Tiny green and blue gloves with lace around the top landed on the little brick half-wall separating the driveway from the pool. I’d prepared myself for her usual round of make-up love-bombing to get in my good graces again when she’d gone too far, but she skipped right over that and went straight for berating me into submission instead. “Are you ready to talk about this like a grownup now?”
Like a shield to protect me from her powers, my arms crossed over me as I motioned toward the little brick cottage. “I’m just here to grab my things.”
Slowly nodding as she sized me up, she arched her brows at me. “Where have you been?” She pointed to the oversized Tudor on the other side of the trees as if he still lived next door. “Jason hasn’t been answering any of my calls. And since you haven’t been answering them either, I was just wondering where you’ve been hiding?”
I held up my hand, only waiting for her to shut her mouth long enough for me to get a word in. “First, don’t bother him anymore. He’s a grown-ass man with a business to run. He doesn’t have time to deal with your drama.” Folding my arms again, I put up two fingers. “Second, I bought a house. Hence, why I’m here getting my shit.”
Completely taken aback that I would dare move on without her, she widened her eyes as far as that botched facelift would allow. “A house?” Dripping with irritation that I’d do anything against her wishes, she huffed one of her condescending laughs. “Well, isn’t that something?” Rubbing the skin below her throat until her entire chest was red, she finally flipped her hand away. “So, when do I get to see it?”
