AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It slowly died, replaced by watery eyes.
“It's okay, you know," I reached out a hand. "To joke.”
"I know." She clasped my hand, squeezing it. "And it's okay to not be a daddy dick, too."
I laughed, surprising myself. "I'll try not to."
"Bah," she let out a breath, letting go of my hand, and wiping her chin with her tank top. "You can barely fix a sandwich, how are you going to be my dad?"
"I can make macaroni and cheese," I stated stubbornly. "And not out of the box." Our mom had taught me — it was the only meal I could remember from her. "It's a perfectly acceptable dinner.”
“It’s not an acceptable dinner, it’s the perfect dinner.” A small smile was back, and we just stared at each other stupidly, though my heart was pounding.
Seriously. How was I going to parent her?
After my conversation with that rude stranger at my father's wake, I'd begun to doubt…well…fucking everything.
What if he was right?
There were definitely things that didn't add up, starting with the night my mother died and ending with dad’s closed-lipped policy on some things. As soon as things were settled with the estate, I was going to dig through anything I could find.
“Let’s just agree that we don’t need a new dad, but that we’ll take care of each other,” I conceded.
She nodded, her face in her mug, “Sounds good to me.”
"Sorry I'm late," Terrance Stokes burst into the room, brushing a tanned hand through his black and grey speckled hair. "I rarely meet face to face with clients anymore.”
"You don’t?” Callie asked, as both of us watched him bustle around the table, pulling out the chair at the head, and sitting briskly down.
"Not usually. We live in the era of electronics, my dear. Makes my job easier." He checked his phone, tapping it a few times, then deliberately placed it face down. "Now," he straightened his black leather portfolio. "Shall we begin?"
He glanced upwards, faltering when he saw Callie. Her face was pale, the circles under her eyes now even darker. She had her cup to her mouth but wasn't drinking. Just holding it there, frozen. "Have I done something wrong?"
"It's just that..." I cleared my throat. "That was dad's chair. He always sat--"
"Say no more." With a wink, Mr. Stokes was already to his feet, the chair making a hard screech on the hardwood flooring. “I’m more than happy to accommodate.” He sat next to me, organizing his phone and portfolio on the table once more. "Will this suffice?"
There was a pregnant pause as I readjusted myself to face him. Callie was staring down at the table, tracing a finger over the rim of her mug.
"Yes," I answered him. "I'm sorry. It was just weird seeing someone else sit there."
"No need to apologize," he pat my hand reassuringly, thick gold rings glinting from his fingers. "It will be an adjustment. It always is. I know I felt that way after my parents died. And after," his voice had grown warbled, “Emily.”
At this, I remembered that one of his daughters died last year. I think she was only fourteen.
There was an uncomfortable silence, then he shot from his chair once more. "Where's Benson? I need him here. He should hear this, too."
"He was in the kitchen, last time I saw him.”
Within a few moments, they'd both returned, with Benson’s limp pronounced as he slowly followed Mr. Stokes. He gave us a soft smile before settling next to Callie without a word.
"Now," Mr. Stokes opened his portfolio and placed a certificate in front of me. “This is your high school diploma. There were no problems getting it issued, as well as an exception for your finals. Neither of you have to return to school this year.” In other words, he had connections. “Unless,” he added, “Callie wants to return for her art internship. The principal told me all about it.”
“Thank you,” I said, barely glancing at it. I was sure Callie would return, but it was her choice. It didn’t start for a couple weeks, anyhow. She had a little time to decide.
“Also, thank you for waiting to go over your father's estate. As you know, you turn eighteen today. Happy birthday."
"Thanks,” I clutched my mug to my chest, feeling overwhelmed. I had a lot of responsibilities on my shoulders now, and I had no idea how to begin. Hopefully, Mr. Stokes would stay on and help me navigate them.
