Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 126840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 634(@200wpm)___ 507(@250wpm)___ 423(@300wpm)
Dad was staring up at Core.
I took a breath and kept going.
“What you do know is Eleanor. You know she didn’t come to you out of concern for me. She came to you so you’d do what you’re doing right now so it would upset you, Core and me. And you fell for it. You came here, upset, and you upset Core and me.”
“You can’t possibly know—” Dad tried.
I didn’t let him continue.
“I can, but you don’t know that either. Now, my man and I were having an important conversation when you started banging on the door. And I may be wrong about you because I don’t know you very well either, which I’ll point out, is not my burden. It’s yours. Because you were never around to allow me to get to know you unless you were ready to be around. And those times were rarely pleasant because you were controlling and demanding of our time when you invaded a life we lived mostly without you in it. You did this instead of fitting into our lives and making the time we had with you something nurturing for all of us. So my take on this is that I don’t think you’re here for my own good. I think, as usual, you’re here to demand attention and to make a scene.”
“I—” he tried again.
I cut him off again.
“You could have called, or texted, set up a time to sit down and have coffee, discuss what Eleanor said to you, so I could explain. I could tell you the man my boyfriend is so you could be happy that I found him, like Mom is. Like Andy is. Like Li is.”
His face grew hard at those last three mentions.
Mostly Andy.
I ignored this and kept talking.
“You didn’t do that. And I don’t feel like having a scene with you, Dad, not in my own living room that you practically forced your way into, not anywhere at any time. I feel like making hot chocolate, putting on Christmas music and baking cookies. And I’m sorry, I don’t want you around when I do that.”
“It would seem we have deeper issues to discuss,” Dad got out, looking and sounding like the words pained him.
We did indeed.
At this juncture, I could get into his Granddad ruse.
I didn’t pick that one.
Because it wasn’t our deepest issue.
“Where did you take Tigger?” I asked.
Red started climbing up Dad’s neck.
Core, who I had not yet gotten into the whole Tigger heartbreak with, sensed the turn of the conversation. I knew it when I felt his hand flatten at the small of my back.
“Where, Dad?” I pushed.
“I dropped him at a shelter,” he forced out.
My body went solid.
My father dropped the beloved family dog at a shelter because he was pitching a fit.
“A kill shelter?” The words were strangled, and I felt the pads of Core’s fingers press in.
“I don’t know,” he muttered.
Lord God, I hoped it wasn’t, and if it was, then someone adopted and went on to love and adore my baby at least as much as I did.
He must have been so confused, in a loving home with his three girls devoted to him one second, and in a cage the next.
I couldn’t dwell on it. I’d dwelled on every version I could conjure about it for years, and each one always tore me apart. Now knowing what befell him didn’t make it better in the slightest.
“You know,” I said quietly, and hearing my tone, Core pressed in fully at his hand at my back, but also, I felt Dad’s sudden hyper focus on me. “I’ve thought about it a lot. And I loved my dog. I loved him and he loved me. But it wasn’t just losing Tigger that hurt so goddamned much. It was you taking him away from me being the beginning of me losing you too. It was you doing something so selfish and cruel because you weren’t getting the attention you wanted when you finally deigned to spend time with your family. And this made me start falling out of love with my own dad. And since then, that never stopped happening.”
His neck was fully red now, and he looked genuinely wounded.
But, too little, too late.
“Hellen—” Dad started.
However now, Core was having none of it.
“You done?” Core grunted his question at me.
“Yes,” I replied.
Core walked around me.
Dad was looking at me, but his attention quickly went to Core.
I watched, impressed, as Core used everything but his hands to herd Dad to the door while Dad exclaimed, “Don’t touch me!” and “Stay back!” and “I’m not done talking to my daughter!”
He I’m-not-doned himself out the door, after which Core shut it in his face and locked it.
He waited.
I waited.
No banging, no shouting.
I should have known.
Dad was not one to fight for his kids. He’d just been embarrassed because, in his mind, he’d just been unmanned. He would go lick his wounds and then one day (maybe) try again with his shenanigans.