“I think he would understand.”
“No.”
“Fine.” She stood up and looked down at me. “But you have to come up with something better than McD’s. You’re way overqualified to work with pimple-faced teens and come home smelling like stale fast-food farts. You’ll barely make it on that income, if at all.”
“Thanks, Mom. I’ll do that.”
Gina rolled her eyes and went to leave. I didn’t hear the door open and waited quietly for what she would say next. It was there bubbling beneath the surface about to erupt. Only a small trickle came out this morning. I really didn’t want to be at the epicenter when she blew, even though I was the cause of her stress and worries. More lies would be told, and others repeated. They were getting harder to keep track of every day. Nothing came but the click of the door as she left.
I melted into the couch and doom-scrolled myself into oblivion while my brain churned endlessly about how I was going to make ends meet and what I was going to do to rectify my life. The streaming services could be suspended along with my car insurance until my car was fixed. Laundry service wouldhave to stay because damn near every article of clothing I owned was dirty in my bedroom floor. I laughed through my nose thinking about kicking through it this morning to find something to wear then losing my balance from standing on the lumpy mess.
Nope, not canceling that.
Dad’s picture popped up on the screen, and my stomach flipped. I debated letting it go to voicemail, but guilt chose for me.
“Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, sweetheart.” His gentle tone warmed me and temporarily chased my fears away. “How was your day?”
Awful. I overslept and got fired. Nearly got Gina fired. Been living with a pregnancy scare. It’s all good, though. I took a test, and it was negative. No Goblin King coming for me today.
“It was a day.”
“Being an adult is fun, huh?”
I laughed. “How was yours?”
“Not too bad. Went golfing and heading home.”
“Dad, you know I hate it when you talk and drive.”
“I learned how to connect it to my car. Technology is fascinating.” His lighthearted laugh made me smile. “I’m calling to remind you of Sunday dinner.”
A sigh wanted to leap out of me. “I didn’t forget. It happens every Sunday.”
“I was beginning to wonder, because you’ve missed it the past few weeks.”
My brows furrowed. I was certain I went the week before last, but the more I thought about it, I knew he was right. When was the last time I went?
Before the dreams started. Before my life began circling the drain.
“You’ll be there, right?”
His tone pulled at my heartstrings. I already felt like I disappointed him by losing my job, and he didn’t even know. I couldn’t disappoint him more. “Yeah, Dad. I’ll be there.”
“Wonderful! I’ll let Patricia know.”
I cringed. I was sure Patty would be elated.
“I love you, Calista.”
“Love you, too, Dad.”
I expected him to say goodbye. Instead, the silence lingered before he said, “You know you can talk to me about anything.”
It was hard to speak around the immediate lump that formed in my throat. He always knew when something was wrong, that parental sixth sense, but I couldn’t confide in him. He couldn’t fix this. “I know.”
He didn’t push. He only offered a gentle reminder. “I’m here for you, day or night.”
I held back the sniffle and gave him a sad smile he couldn’t see. “That’s why you’re the best dad ever.”
We said our goodbyes. When the call ended, I tossed the phone to the side and stared at the wall, wobbling through the tears. My hand instantly went to the scar on my chest. I couldn’t remember how I got it, but it was something I did to soothe myself.
“Get your head on straight,” I whispered.
How did I do that? I had already shrunk myself down, lived a quiet existence, barely left the house. I was crawling out of my skin. All I wanted more than anything was to live. The lengths I had gone to protect myself were driving me stir-crazy, and now, here I was making questionable choices so I could feel alive.
Ding.
I squeezed my eyes shut as my next questionable choice sent another message.
