Page 19 of The Fake Out

Which was ironic since she’d probably only spent a handful of weeks in his presence. In the early days, after we moved to Two Harts, he’d show up every now and then, con Mama into letting him back in the house, spend just enough time getting Iris’s hopes up that he’d stay, then just as quickly disappear.

Come to think of it, maybe that’s exactly why she was a Daddy’s girl. She’d missed out on the years on the road, moving from hotel room to shabby apartment. When she was just a few months old, Mama had brought us to Two Harts, and we’d moved in with Granny. It was the first time I’d had a home for longer than six months and it was the only home Iris had ever known.

“I worry about her,” Mama went on. “I don’t know if she’s ready to be out in the world on her own.”

“Iris will be fine,” I said with more confidence than I felt. But I would just have to make it so. Maybe I could put a tracking device in her lip ring?

“She will, eventually. But Iris has always been one who needs to see for herself instead of listening to what everyone else tells her.” Mama rested a hand on my knee. “She said she wants Dad to come to her graduation.”

I sucked in a breath.

“You and I, we cover for him. We always have. But it’s time she sees him for who he is.” She paused, eyes narrowing. “I can’t say he was a mistake because he gave me you and Iris, but I could go the rest of my life never seeing his face.”

“Me too,” I grumbled.

“This is important to Iris.”

“Do we even know where he is?”

“He calls every now and then, to check up on you girls.” Her cheeks reddened. “And me too.”

“Mama.”

She held up a hand, her voice firm. “I’m not interested. Trust me. Been there, done that, didn’t even get the t-shirt. This is for Iris.”

I hesitated. This was all new information. I liked to mull things over before weighing in. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t want her to resent me because she thinks I kept her from him.” Mama heaved a sigh. “But I don’t want you to resent me either.”

“I won’t,” I said quickly. But maybe that was a lie.

She held up a slip of paper. “I think you should call him.”

“Me? Why?”

“I’ve already called and left a message. Iris, too. We aren’t getting a response. I think it would be good if you tried.”

“Mama,” I sighed.

She picked up my hand, placed the slip of paper in the palm and wrapped my fingers around it. “Please. For Iris.”

With a shake of my head, I stood and stalked to my bedroom, a sour taste in my mouth. I threw myself on my bed and screamed into my pillow like I used to when I was a teenager. This was not how I imagined my life as an adult. Yet here I was. In my bedroom angry with my father and worried about how the next bill would be paid.

I turned my head to the side and Kevin glared from the pillow beside me.

“Sorry to disturb you,” I muttered.

His ear, the one with the notch in it from some cat equivalent of a bar fight, twitched. He stood and rearranged himself so his butt was in my face.

“Such a gentleman. Thank you.”

My cell phone buzzed with a text notification.

Dreamboat: Did you fall from Heaven? ’Cause I think you’re an angel.

It had been a week since Chris had first texted. It had taken me a minute to figure who Dreamboat was and why he was sending me random cheesy pickup lines. If I were being honest, his texts were becoming something I sort of looked forward to. Not that I would ever admit that to him or anyone else.

Me: Were you born on a highway? I hear that’s where most accidents happen.