AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Still, looking up into his stone blue eyes, I found myself hoping this wasn’t a dream. That he really was as wonderful as he seemed because God knew I needed something good in my life after all the hell I’d been through.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It had been a few days since I arrived, and everyone gave me my space. I stayed in my room for the most part but came out occasionally. Rick gave me a new phone when he found out mine was destroyed. I was super happy about that because I wasn’t completely cut off from my old friends anymore.
I tried to keep tally on how much money I owed him. If I had it once the life insurance came in after paying everything off, I wanted to pay him back whatever I could. I felt terrible about him spending money on me.
After a few days spent relatively alone, I started to feel a bit better. I absolutely needed the adjustment period. I knew I wouldn’t do well jumping right into family movie or game nights, big dinners, and whatever else real families did together. Whateverthisfamily did together. The nightmares were worse, which made the awkwardness around them worse, but the anxiety medication I’d been prescribed helped in those moments when I woke up panicking.
Truth was, I had no idea howanyfamily dynamic worked. I never really had one. It was just dad and me, and we had movie nights whenever he wasn’t working or whenever I didn’t have some class or tournament going on. It wasn’t very often. A couple times a month.
Past that, Dad would talk to me when he got home from work. Sometimes I’d have dinner ready for him when he got in, and sometimes I’d just grab a sandwich or something. I’d work a little on whatever project car he had going on, and he’d work on it when he had time, too. But as busy as we both were, he always gave me hugs before bed and told me he loved me more than anything.
He was a good man. A good dad. But that was the only experience I had with families.
This was all new, and I needed to get used to even being in this big ass house, let alone them and the weirdLeave it to Beaverthing they had going on.
Okay, maybe that was dramatic. It wasn’tthatweird. Just weird to me.
Last night, Rick came in to check on me and extend an invitation I’d been expecting but part dreading. “I was wondering if you’d want to go to lunch with me tomorrow,” he’d said with a cautious, hopeful expression. “I know things are off to a bit of a patchy start with your sister, so this would just be us. You and me. I don’t want to push you too far too fast, and I figured less people would be better. I think it would be a good way for us to get to know each other in a neutral setting.”
I wasn’t entirely sure what to say. I wanted to get to know him, but I was nervous. What if he wasn’t who he seemed? What if I wasn’t anything like he’d hoped? It was a lot of stress, and it made my anxiety spike just thinking about it.
“I feel like the house is making it more difficult for you,” he’d said. “It’s big and intimidating. It probably makes you feel like you need to be something that you don’t.”
He had a point. It really did do all of that. It was a very big, uncomfortable house to be in. It was beautiful to look at, but it just seemed like way too much. I wasn’t used to it, and it really did make me feel like I was scraped off the bottom of someone’s shoe and dumped here.
Oddly enough, the opposite had been true. I’d been stolen fromthislife and dumped in the life I had. This wassupposedto be my life. I was supposed to live like this.
Such a mind-blowing thought.
“What about the park?” he’d asked. “I’ll dress normally. I’ll wear a hat and glasses. Clark Kent myself. We’ll wear masks, too. No one will have a clue who we are.”
That sounded amazing. I loved that idea, so that was what we’d decided on.
I went through my clothes and looked for something comfortable to wear that wouldn’t cut into my side too much. I had a wheelchair I rolled around the house in whenever I was tired or just felt weak, though that need became less and less all the time. Every day I felt a little stronger, but I still needed it from time to time. Especially if I overdid it and needed to take one of my pain meds. The good thing about this monster of a house was that it was easy to get around in a wheelchair. That was a plus.
To say that I was a little nervous about today was an understatement. It would be the first time in a long time I’d be able to go out and about without worrying about IVs, medications, and wheelchairs—though Rick said we’d still take it just in case. I was glad for that. It made my anxiety calm down a little since I was so worried about getting overly tired and ruining the day.
I found myself wanting him to like me just as much as I wanted to like him. Part of me felt as though it was a betrayal to my adoptive parents, but I had to remind myself Rick was an innocent man. A father whose daughter was ripped away from him. From what Javier had told me on the way to California, my mother was kidnapped and murdered—possibly to get to me.
Rick had lost so much. I had, too. If nothing else, I guess we had that to bond over—as grim as that was.
After what felt like forever, I settled on something to wear. A black, ankle-length midi-skirt made of a super soft stretchy material, and a white wrap-around blouse. It was made out of gauzy material but was lined with a satiny fabric, so it wasn’t see-through. There was a tie on the inside—kind of like a bathrobe—to hold the inside secure, and the outside wrapped around and tied behind the back.
The skirt was perfect for not putting pressure on my side, but I moved around as much as I could to test out the shirt. With the binder in place, I barely felt anything at all. It was just stretchy enough it didn’t put any pressure on any sore spots, so I felt confident I’d chosen something both comfortable and appropriate. I slipped on some cute black sandals and headed out.
“Hey!” Rick said when I walked into the foyer. “You look very nice. Is that comfortable enough for you?”
I nodded. “It’s super stretchy, so it feels good. No worries.”
He smiled. “Good! You ready to go?”
“Yes. I’m starving,” I said just as my belly growled.
He laughed and turned toward the door. I followed him out to a silver Escalade. The wheelchair was already in the back. He opened the car door for me, and I carefully climbed inside.
After closing my door, he walked around the front of the vehicle to the driver’s side to get in. I buckled up and thought about his attire. He hadn’t been joking. He really did Clark Kent himself.
