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“Did anyone correct her otherwise?” I asked with my teeth clenched together.
“No, but that’s only a matter of time. Aren’t you curious to know what she wanted?”
“Not especially. I’m tired. I think I’ll shower and grab a nap.”
I tried to walk past him, but he grabbed my arm and held me in place. “It’s your dad, Gumdrop. He’s at the end. Now is the time to see him before it’s too late.”
I swallowed around the anger filling my chest and shook my head once. “No. It’s been too late for years, Lance. Just about twenty-seven.”
I pulled my arm from his hand, ran up the stairs, and locked myself in the bathroom. I stripped my bakery whites off and threw them on the floor in an angry huff before I ripped the shower curtain back and cranked on the water. If Brenda thought I was going to go see that man one more time before he died, she must have dementia too.
I stepped into the shower and ripped the curtain closed, standing under the spray of water as hot tears ran down my cheeks. Brenda always had a selective memory when it came to how that man treated me. There was no sense reminding her, though. She hadn’t cared then and she wouldn’t care now. Her husband could do no wrong, even if everything he’d done to hisdaughterwas wrong.
Chapter Twelve
“What’s up, Gumdrop?” I asked the woman who was hunkered down in the corner of the couch staring at her phone.
“I don’t want to talk about it, Lance.”
“I’m not asking you to,” I promised, reaching my left hand out to her.
She glanced up from her phone. “What’s that?”
“Rum and Diet Coke with Lime.”
Her eyes sparked and she took the glass, sucking down half of it before she took a breath. “You know me so well, Lance Garland.”
I lowered myself to the couch and sipped at my own drink. “I’m glad you think so. Most of the time I don’t think anyone knows you, Indigo Dickson.”
She lifted a brow but already had her lips back on the rim of the glass. When she finished it, she got up and disappeared into the kitchen, coming back with a refill and the bottle of rum. She had half of her refill gone before she sat down.
“Better slow down, Gumdrop. We’ve got a long day tomorrow and Friday.”
She lifted the glass. “All the more reason.”
She slugged it back and shook the cubes left in the glass before she refilled it again. This time she leaned back against the couch and sipped it slowly. “I can’t believe you remembered that I liked Diet Coke with lime.”
“You drank it every day at work. It wasn’t that hard to observe or remember.”
“And you’re good at observing,” she agreed.
“What does that mean?” I asked, my voice low and sharp.
“It doesn’t mean anything. Does it have to mean something for me to make an observation? Or is it that I’m too stupid to make an observation?”
I bit my tongue rather than jump on her immediately. I saw this for what it was, and what it was, was a defense mechanism. I wasn’t sure why she had it but I was starting to think I knew who gave it to her. I sipped my drink and waited for her to say more. If I gave her time to feel confident that I wasn’t going to judge her, she’d relax. I didn’t even care if she talked to me about the situation with her dad. That wasn’t why I was here. I was here for her the same way she was here for me, even if she didn’t realize that yet.
“Sorry, I’m tired. I didn’t mean to be defensive.”
“You’re fine, Gumdrop,” I promised. “Maybe you should head to bed. Our day will start early tomorrow.”
“He's not my father.”
I lowered my glass to my knee. "Come again?"
"He's not my father. I found that out on my twelfth birthday. Happy birthday! Oh, and you're someone else's kid."
"I'm sorry, baby. I never had a father but that's better than having a father who didn't want me."
