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“I reckon ten thousand should do it for now.”
My hand drops. “For now? What the fuck, Dad?”
“Hey, watch your mouth.”
“Who’s asking whom for a favor? I’ll say whatever the fuck I like,” I cry out with my voice now louder than it needs to be. My gaze flies to the door, but thankfully it’s shut.
“Can you help or not?”
I feel for my old man, I really do. He’s the only one left in my family that has ever given me the time of day. His wife—my stepmom, I guess—and her kids have never bothered with me. Despite the fact that they actually got to grow up with my father around them, they’re pissed because they believe I somehow lucked out with my genes, when in reality I worked my ass off to play football when my mom could barely afford the gear. All because my dad—who financially supports them—paid the bare minimum in child support. But we made do. There was no luck about it.
“Yep. I always do,” I tell my dad, because it’s true.
I donate a fair chunk of my money each year to various charities. I’d much rather the ten grand go there, but Dad would just end up taking on another job or remortgaging his house, and I can’t let him do that knowing I have the cash to help.
He sighs in relief. “Thank you.”
“No sweat.”
“No, I mean it. I love you, son.”
“Yep. Love you too.”
If only you dished out those words more often, maybe then I’d believe them.
I take a moment to calm myself down before leaving. And as I move through the halls, I walk past Lucy’s office with my phone raised to my ear, pretending to be lost in conversation. Suffice it to say this isn’t the first time I’ve done this; it works well to avoid having to talk to her.
I round the corner to the safe zone, just as Lucy’s voice stops me midstep. There’s an edge to it, a fact she seems to be trying to hide.
“You can’t come here. It’s my work.”
She pauses as I take a few steps back toward her office just to make sure she’s okay. She’s in the hallway now, pacing back and forth, so lost in her call that she doesn’t even notice me a few feet away.
“No, you don’t need to do that. She’s not even here.”
Just as she says the words, I hear giggles coming from her office, and I have to wonder if that’s the “she” Lucy is referring to. Because if I heard it, chances are the caller did too. Lucy’s eyes slam shut and she quickly mumbles something before hanging up and immediately dialing someone else.
“Where are you?” she says, clearly panicked this time.
“Sorry, hi. Where are you? I need you to come and get—”
She runs a hand through her long brown hair and drops her head back, staring at the ceiling. “Okay, shit.”
Her head then rolls forward to her chest, and she sighs before straightening up, her eyes flashing toward her office. “It’s okay. I’ve got this,” she says before hanging up.
I move to walk away—she said she’s got this—but I pause again when I’m racked with guilt. “Ah, fuck.”
Hearing Lucy move back into her office, I take off in a run to catch the door before it shuts completely.
“I know something’s wrong. How can I help?” I say, stepping into her room.
Lucy’s eyes widen in surprise and flash toward something on my left before coming back to me. “Wes, I—”
“Hello, again,” a familiar voice says from behind me, cutting Lucy off.
I turn toward the voice and freeze. There in front of me is Katie.Katie. The little girl with the same name as my grandmother, the little girl who happens to be four years old, the little girl who on close inspection hasmylight brown eyes.
Fuck.Fuck! I feel sick. I’m going to throw up.
