Page 48 of Bad Pet (His Pet)


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My hands have shriveled due to lingering too much under the water. So, I take that as a sign to go. I wrap myself in a towel and return to the bedroom. Then, I let the robotic instincts that have kept me alive through all my missions kick in. I dress, prepare breakfast, then knock on Myah’s door. I can feign a smile and a laugh because that is how I’m trained to be.

“Myah,” I knock at her door and hear her stir. “I’m coming in, okay?”

She grumbles in reply, and I enter her room. It’s crowded with all the shopping bags that we have been amassing these past few days. And then there are some of her things from the old house that she didn’t bring before. I told her that she could mark whatever she wanted to keep, then we would donate the rest.

Myah is a peaceful sleeper — the exact opposite of her awake personality. And I want her to keep both of them amidst all the lies. I hope she can hold onto her innocence, and I vow never to tell her what Sloane has done because I can’t bear to see her barely holding up, just like me.

I nudge her to wake her. And one sleepy eye opens, and then the other.

“Hon. We need to start early if we want to get to all the places you want to visit today.”

“Hmmm.”

“Maybe, I can even try an ice cream if we have enough time to pick one up.”

Myah scrambles out of bed and hurries to the adjoining bathroom. I leave her room to let her have her privacy as she gets ready. And I immediately feel empty when I walk to the living room. Thankfully, it takes Myah only a few minutes to prepare, and she bounces out like a radiant being.

“Why do you look so glum, Dad? I thought you were excited for today,” she asks. There is a hint of concern in her voice. It sounds like Sloane.

I straighten my back. “I am. But I’m also tired from all the walking that we’re doing.”

“Well, you are such an old man. You will never enjoy New York if you’re always stuck in traffic inside a cab or with Mark and Russel.”

I smile. “Don’t ever say that to their faces. They think you like them.”

“But I do. Doesn’t mean they’re not boring at times.”

“Well, be kinder. In Washington, you may get stuck with them or my assistants at times. Breakfast is ready. Grab a bite before we go.”

Myah walks into the dining space. I don’t cook, but the hotel has everything she can ever want. So, I order it all.

“If Mom were here, she would get so mad about all this food,” my daughter exclaims as she picks up bacon and pancakes. She pours syrup on them, lots of it, then settles down on a chair.

“Why? Because it is too expensive? Your mother is not a thrifty person.”

Myah’s mouth is still full, so she shakes her head. Then, she swallows her bite fast. “No. No. She would like this extravagant display of food. But she’d get mad that none of her snooty friends can see it.”

I laugh. I can still express joy, I think to myself. But I just can’t feel it.

“But Dad, really. This is a lot of food. Are we expecting someone to come with us?”

Sloane’s face jumps in my mind, but I shake my head in reply.

“I don’t know what you like yet. And I want to be prepared, so I order all the breakfast foods from the menu. By the way, where are we going today?”

“Hmmm. I’m thinking art museum. I read about an exhibit last night. Is that okay?”

My eyebrow lifts, but I say, “okay.” I never thought that Myah would be interested in art. Though, it must not come as a surprise anymore because she seems to like so many things. And an art museum may be a great break from all the shopping that we have been doing.

I wait for her to finish eating, and I watch her.

Myah bites a chunk of bacon. Then she meets my eyes. “Well, then. Dad. Can we invite Sloane today?”

I retreat a bit, unsure of how to handle this question. It is hard to say no to Myah. But I know that my emotions, however locked and guarded they are, will resurface if I’m near Sloane. I can’t fake happiness if she is near me.

“No. Myah.” That is the simplest answer, but it is tough to say aloud.

“But I want to see her,” she whines. Myah never whined when she was younger.

“Myah. We can never see her again. Someday, you’ll understand why.”

My daughter stares at me. “Well, that is the stupidest thing I have heard you say ever. I can’t just not see her. Sloane is my friend. And don’t you remember that she took me in even when she was terrified that you might find out and make her lose her job?”

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