Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 91(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 91(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
I brace myself for questions, disappointment, and worries, but the first thing he asks is, “You’re okay? No one hurt you back there?”
“No, Dad. I’m not really okay, but no one hurt me. Well, maybe my asshole manager.”
“Should I take my rusted ax and show him no one hurts my daughter?”
I smile and wipe a lone tear sliding down my cheek. “I’m sorry.”
His forehead furrows. “For what?”
“For being a failure. For trying to chase something that was never meant to be mine.”
“Dani…”
“I wanted to go home months ago, Dad, but I didn’t want you to think I failed you, which I did.”
“Dani, I only ever wanted what’s best for you and what makes you happy. You wanted to make a living out of your art? Perfect. You wanted to go to the city? Okay. If you said you wanted to paint plant boxes for the rest of your life, I would’ve cut the trees myself.”
I really don’t deserve him and Matt. “I was so scared to come home like this, Dad. I wanted you to be proud of me. I never got to thank you for supporting me throughout art school and in the years after graduation until I landed a job that paid enough.”
“Dani, it’s my responsibility as your father.”
“How many guppies did you have to sell?”
Dad snorts. “Please. I had to include the aquariums for an extra 20.”
I crack up, doubling over, and Dad immediately joins in. He wipes his eyes before sobering up and smiling. “I am proud of you, kiddo. Taking off at eighteen and living in the city alone? That’s brave, Danika. I would never have done it. I’d be so scared to do it, but you did. Things might not have turned out the way you wanted them to, but maybe, just maybe, you’re meant for better things.”
“T-thank you, Dad. I love you.”
“I love you too, kiddo.” He purses his lips, hesitates for a bit, and says haltingly, “So … you … and, uhm … Matty. When did that happen? When did you get here?”
My mind chooses that moment to remind me of all the filthy things we did, and I look away, fanning my heated face. “When I came back last Friday. I went into the mountains to camp and gather myself before I came here.”
“Dani…” Dad’s eyes are wide with disbelief.
“I know, Dad, I know. I didn’t stop to check the weather. I got stuck there, Matt saved me, and well … we talked things out.”
Dad gives me a knowing look. “I’m glad. I’ve always liked that boy, though I wasn’t too crazy when he proposed right out of graduation, but…” He whistles and speaks with an almost reverent tone. “I couldn’t believe it when Lydia said he was building a cabin in the woods. Matt, the boy who didn’t even know which kind of knife to scale a fish with, was going to live in the mountains. He had everyone talking, you know. People made bets on how long he’d last there alone.”
Dad smacks the table in amusement. “He wouldn’t even help with the cattle at his ranch, and there he was, trying to live on his own. But I knew he could do it. I knew. This was the same boy who made you an easel stand when the store was out of stock. The same one who built a small cabinet for your paints.”
“I remember that,” I say with a smile.
I startle when my phone vibrates in my pocket. There’s no signal in the mountains, so I’m just starting to get messages and emails right now—not that there’s a lot, aside from spam.
One of the email subjects catches my eye, and I open it with trembling fingers.
From: Eli Johnson
Subject: CONGRATS. ANSWER YOUR DAMN PHONE
Daniela,
I am writing to inform you of a recent decision regarding your role within our company. After careful consideration and evaluation, it has been determined that the transition with the other employee in your previous position has not worked out as anticipated.
You can go back to your former position.
Please let us know if you are willing to accept this offer. We look forward to your positive response and to having you back in your previous role.
Best,
Eli
Creative Director
My eyes narrow at my phone, and I let out a scoff.
“Who was that?” Dad asks.
“My old boss. He wants to offer me my old position back.”
“He fired you?”
“Yep. His nephew took my job.”
“Now he wants you back.”
I nod, scanning the other emails and text messages I received from my former workmates. “Apparently, he screwed up big time, and the company lost one of our big, old clients. The client will only come back on the condition that I handle their account.”
“Damn. Karma works fast.” Dad stops halfway through drinking his tea and squints his eyes at me. “You don’t look happy.”