Page 1 of Apple of His Eye

PROLOGUE

The gray sky above me booms with thunder, warning of the looming storm about to rage down onto us. But I ignored the sound. Instead, I study every detail of my father’s face. From his slightly graying hair, to creases in the outer corners of his olive-green eyes, down to the round shape of his nose.

He’s leaving… again.

It doesn’t matter he barely arrived home two days ago or that I’ve barely spent any time with him. He’s hours from boarding another plane and jetting off to some country in Europe.

“Why do you always have to go?” I ask, watching his face fall. Lee White crouches down, pushes his oversized glasses up his nose, and takes my hand in his.

“I’ll be home before you know it.” The soft tone of his voice strikes my heart, causing my throat to tighten with unsaid emotion.

“Daddy, please don’t go.” I throw my arms around his neck, and he responds by wrapping me tightly against him.

“Darling,” Francesca’s nasally voice interrupts the moment and I feel my father pull back, but I hold on to him tighter, not wanting to let him go just yet. “You’re going to miss your flight.”

“Please, Daddy, let me go with you,” I beg. A dark, dreary feeling settles into my small chest, and it frightens me. It’s an unfamiliar feeling—like if I let him go, I’m never going to see him again.

“I wish you could, my little apple.” He fingers the rose gold apple necklace clasped around my neck. It was a gift from my grandmother last year. One she’d given me days before she passed from a sudden heart attack.

“But I can go, Daddy. If you say I can go, I will.”

“Everleigh,” Francesca interjects sharply. Fear blooms in my belly, the type of fear only Francesca can instill within me. I ignore it, choosing to commit my father’s face to memory. Every line. Every crease. Every follicle of his shaggy beard. “Your father’s work is very important. The last thing he needs is a child to look after.”

“I don’t need looking after,” I reply matter-of-factly. “I’m nine. I can watch myself. I already do that while you’re—”

“Everleigh, that’s enough. Let your father go.” Francesca steps forward. Her cold, bony hand reaches out to me like a claw, but I twist out of reach and bury my face into my father’s neck. “Do you see what I have to put up while you’re gone, Lee?”

“Franny, give us a moment, will you?” My father grits between his teeth, irritation settling into his brow. It’s been a familiar expression since the day he arrived home with Francesca. I don’t know why he married her, because they barely get along. They fight a lot, and this time has been no different. Between her complaints about me and her whiny about him never being home, I don’t know why they stay together. She hates it when he pays me any attention and always tries to get in between us. Sometimes I wonder if she is the reason he tries to always stay gone. He never used to work this much.

“I hate it when you leave me here with her.” He stiffens at my words, because he’s always wanted me to have a mother figure. Maybe that’s why he married her… because of me. “When I grow up, I’m always going to be with you, daddy.”

“Sweet girl,” he starts, and I see the remorse in his face. He doesn’t want to leave me, but he doesn’t want to stay either. “Please, Ever, for my sake, behave for Franny. She’s new to this mothering thing—”

“You’ve been saying the same thing since you brought her home, Daddy. She’s not new to it. She’s just not good at it,” I shrug.

“When did you get so smart, little apple?” he asks, shaking his head. “Franny’s trying. Don’t you think you could try a little harder, too?”

“Sure,” I whisper choke, swallowing down the knowledge of what really happens when he leaves. I become invisible and unimportant. Just an irritation to her lifestyle. But if I keep my mouth shut about the flock of men coming and going all hours of the night, Francesca will leave me alone. That was a lesson I learned the hard way—what a loose tongue would get me. It only took once, and I said nothing to her about it—or anyone—ever again.

“Besides, when you’re eighteen, I’m sure you’re going to be too busy to hang out with your old man.”

“Oh, Daddy,” I giggle. “I’ll never be too busy for you.”

“Just you wait, little apple. You’re going to fall in love one day, and that man will take you away from me and this life. And he’ll love and care for you, in ways I can’t. You’ll be the apple of his eye.”

“Was my mother the apple of your eye?”

“Yes,” he breathes, his throat bobs as he swallows hard. “She was my everything.”

Sometimes it’s difficult for him to talk about my mother. He doesn’t speak of her often, but when he does, it’s obvious how devoted to her he was. He still is. Even with Francesca at his side. He’ll never love Francesca the way he loves my mother. And I think she knows it.

“You look so much like her, Everleigh.” His voice is a strangled whisper and his eyes rake over my face. He gives me a gentle smile and taps against my chest, right where my heart beats underneath bone and skin. “But you got the best part of her right here. Her heart. Her kindness. Her love. Her loyalty. Even her sassy. You are your mother’s daughter, little apple.”

“I wish she hadn’t died.” Guilt settles into my stomach, like it always does when I remember why she isn’t here.

I’m the reason.

She died giving birth to me.

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