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My insides warmed. That’s what I needed to do. Reconnect to the person I’d been before getting caught up in all the luxuries.The good person I hoped myself to be.Then again, I didn’t go into this arrangement for myself but to help my parents.Maybe things are better at home. Mom mentioned Dad might have a donor.
The windchill went straight through the thin material of my dress as I walked to the bus depot.Bare legs, heels. I’m insane to pass up on the ride.But this was my real life as a student. I’d have to return to living within my means.
I shivered under the shelter for ten minutes before a bus arrived. Milwaukee had one of the best grid systems. After the thirty-minute ride, I was a mere few blocks from my family’s East Van Norman Avenue craftsman house. It had a new stone path from the street to the backyard. The vinyl siding looked clean, if not brand-new. But seeing our wraparound porch with the swing, now re-polished and with new cushions, felt heartening. It took me back to when Mom and Dad sat with me there when I first came to stay with them. Mom lifted me into that swing, and I climbed onto her lap and fell asleep. She made me a big lunch and had toys for me to play with, but all I wanted was for her to hold me.
When I grew older, we talked about my adoption. Mom told me it was normal for neglected kids to feel desperate for affection. But she and Dad had given me so much that I don’t even remember ever feeling left alone.
The house updates had also brought on a new worry.Mom is spending the money Paul gave them.He’d loosely disguised it as a bank overpayment.She had wanted to repair the home for years, and watching it fall into disrepair hurt her. How could I tell her not to use the money after telling her it was okay?I can’t.
A game show jingle boomed from inside, and the light from the television screen was slightly visible through the horizontal blinds.Dad needs to get his hearing checked.
Stopping before the stained glass and wooden door, I searched my handbag for the key. The light above me came on, and the blinds opened, showing Dad’s bald head. He peered through, and my heart warmed.
“Nadia, is that you?” he called out, his voice rising an octave.
My voice caught in my throat. “It’s me, Daddy.”
The door flew open, and I threw my arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.
“Nadia, you’re freezing! What happened? Why are you home?” Dad fired off questions as he tugged me into the house and closed the door. He went to the closet, immediately grabbed one of the blankets, and put it around my shoulders. “Does your mom know you’re home?”
“No, Dad. I…I’m here for a few days. I missed you both,” I stuttered.
“Where are your bags?”
I shrugged and dipped my head.
“I’ll make tea, and you’ll fill me in on what happened, but I suspect you ran away from ‘Dapper Dan.’”
I huffed a humorless laugh as I followed him into our kitchen and dropped the blanket, waving my dad to sit while I put on the kettle. “I’m okay. And Paul’s not a ‘Dapper Dan’ or whatever that’s supposed to mean.”
“He dresses up in fancy suits and looks like a Hollyweird movie star. I bet he has smooth hands.” Dad meant it as an insult. He was proud of the calluses on his own hands, just like his dad’s, when he worked at the manufacturing plant, and his grandparents’ on their farm back in Poland. He often told me that rough hands showed honest work. However, having been with Paul, I had witnessed how tirelessly he had worked on his projects.
“Paul works hard, Dad.” I poured the tea into the cups and added milk before sitting across from him, carefully putting a coaster underneath them to avoid staining Mom’s favorite gingham tablecloth.
“Crane gets to play music for a living. He’s also worth billions. In baseball, that’s called being born on third base. He was always going to succeed. I know we’re dealt the hand we’re given. Don’t think I’m not grateful, Nadia; I am. He did a lot for us. He even shocked me with what he’s doing with the old plant.”
My brows rose. “What do you mean?”
He sipped his tea and placed it down on the table. “Paul set up a fund for the survivors’ families to recover their pensions from the swindled money his granddad Mathias Crane took from the workers. It will set him back millions, but I’m told we will all get the money our parents were due, us included.”
I touched my throat. “Paul didn’t tell me anything about it. That’s wow…very charitable.”
Dad nodded and picked up a sugar packet. I immediately placed my hand over his to stop him. “You’re barely home and already policing me, too.”
I tutted and replaced his sugar with artificial sweetener. “That’s right.”
“I’m allowed a little sugar…Did you see the swing?” I nodded. “Mom is spending that money he gave us, trying to fix the house like we’re rich. But we all know Crane did it to pleaseyou. Does he know you’re here?”
I hunched my shoulders. “Yes. But we…we broke up.”
“Good. He’s too old for you, anyway.”
“He’s only thirty-five, Dad.”
Dad smirked at me. “So, if Paul’s all that great, and you won’t let me say a bad word about him, why did you break up?”
I chewed my lip.I can’t tell him I’m his escort.It would devastate him. “I, well…we had a fight. We were supposed to go to St. Barts, but I came home.”
