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‘I’m sure you could ask his brother to step outside for four minutes.’ I smirk.
‘Oh, shut up!’ Cara snarls back at me. I’ve heard Scott’s strangled cry through the ceiling after a couple of minutes of banging more times than I care to think of, so I know exactly how long they need to get down and dirty. ‘What do you care, anyway, Daddy?’ Cara adds under her breath and tucks strands of her wavy brown hair behind her ear.
She’s never called me Kyle, only Daddy – her mother insisted on it. The old shrew knew how much I wanted a family and she hoped that Cara calling me Daddy would make me feel guilty about the prenup that, according to Valerie, would disadvantage mydaughter.
‘You and Scott are some couple,’ Valerie mocks before I have a chance to reply. ‘You’re both still living at home.Christ, Scott is no better than your own dad,hisdrunken ass is still at home with his darling mother.’
Cara flinches, like she always does at the mention of her biological father.
‘He hasn’t got a choice, he’s looking after Granny.’
‘Open your eyes, Cara,’ Valerie says with an evil gleam in her eyes. ‘He’s an alcoholic, and your granny is looking afterhim.’
‘Whatever,’ Cara mumbles.
I don’t understand why she refuses to see what a waste of space her dad is. He’s neglected her all her life, never visits, never calls or remembers birthdays. If Cara wasn’t such a pain in the ass, I’d probably feel sorry for her.
I had a good relationship with my own father. Sure, we had our differences, but we mostly got along well. He taught me all he knew about running the estate. Regretfully, he didn’t teach me how to run it with a profit. He didn’t know how to. This place was struggling long before he passed, some six years ago. A part of my mother died with him. She moved to her sister’s to get away from all the memories. I know Valerie is the reason she hardly visits anymore. There’s no love lost between the two women.
A car horn beeps. I glance out the window and spot Linda’s husband, but Linda herself is not in the car. I furrow my brows as Valerie hikes her handbag higher up on her shoulder.
‘Well, I hope Scott is using condoms,’ she barks at her daughter.
‘Oh, god, Mum, please!’ Cara rolls her eyes.
‘I’m serious!’
‘Just because you got knocked up at nineteen doesn’t mean that I’m that stupid,’ Cara snaps.
Here we go again…I grab the pack of ham and try to block their argument.
‘Yeah, I was stupid,’ Valerie hisses. ‘Had I knownyouwould be the result, I would’ve made sure your dad kept the rubber on.’
Cara recoils but quickly recovers and says with another eye-roll, ‘Gee, thanks, Mother.’
‘How about you do something productive today, like look for a job?’ Cara ignores her, which riles Valerie up even more and her voice rises with every sentence. ‘Kids your age are supposed to have left home by now. Why am I still burdened with you? You need to chip in on the bills if you’re going to continue living in my house!’
‘My house,’ I remind her.
Valerie’s eyes snap to mine. Her nostrils flare, but she has no comeback. I think she started hating me the moment I insisted on putting the Kilpatrick Estate in the prenup. The generous land and old buildings have been in my family for generations. I didn’t want to risk losing it.
The best move I’ve ever made.
‘Are you going to eat again?’ Valerie barks at her daughter, the easier target, before sliding her hand down her own slim frame. ‘You’ll never grow out of your baby fat if you keep eating all the time.’
Cara isn’t fat, but Valerie’s vicious comments always hit their mark. ‘Shut the fuck up, Mum,’ Cara yells and opens the fridge door.
‘Don’t you dare talk to me like that! I’m your mother,’ Valerie shouts, her hands on her hips.
I close my eyes and rub my temples while Cara screams, ‘I wish you weren’t!’
‘The feeling is fucking mutual!’ Valerie’s voice is echoing off the walls. ‘Who the hell would want a fat kid as their child?’
With a last flick of her hair, my wife storms out of the house to the sound of the hard click-clack of her stilettos on the flagstone tiles.
Cara slams the fridge door shut, its contents rattling. My gaze drops to her cut-off shorts, wedged deep in her ass crack between jiggling cheeks, as she storms out of the kitchen.
In the blissful quiet that follows, I rub both hands over my face. How I wish they’d both just storm right out of my life. More than that, I wish I could make their lives a nightmare, the same way they’ve made mine.
