'Yeah.' I glanced at my dad, who was rooting around in
the fridge for something.
'Vince! We just ate!'
'I need a drink,' he said and came out holding a bottle of designer water.
'Fine. Good night, Paige. Thanks for watching the boys.'
'No problem.'
My dad and I turned to watch her head up the steps. I
My dad and I turned to watch her head up the steps. I
thought he'd ask me about Jeremy since that was the
whole reason I'd come over in the first place, but he didn't.
He drank his water with a sigh and tossed the empty bottle
in the trash. Then he puled out his walet and handed me a
fifty-dolar bil.
'For watching the kids,' he said.
The paper, crisp and sharp edged, rubbed my fingers.
'Dad, I don't need this.'
'Jungle Java isn't cheap.'
'I wanted to take them.'
'Take the money, Paige,' my dad said amiably enough.
'I'm sure you can use it.'
I straightened my shoulders and folded the bil in half, then
shoved it in my pocket. 'You don't have to pay me for
watching the boys. I'm doing al right.'
My dad laughed. 'I'm sure you are. I'm not paying you for
anything, I'm just being your dad, okay?'
'Wel, then. Thanks.' Gratitude stuck in my throat but I
forced it out.
My dad had periodicaly tossed me some money over the
years. Never enough. Never when I needed it. It would
have been better if he'd done right by my mom and given
her child support so I could've had the stylish jeans in
middle school or the warmer winter coat. I'd have
appreciated that more than the occasional twenty or even
fifty dolars, or the sudden flurry of birthday gifts three
weeks late and al in the wrong sizes.
'Do you want to go to lunch with me next week?' He
yawned again, and I started toward the front door.
'Sure, Dad. Cal me.'
'I wil,' he told me at the door and gave me a hug and a
kiss on the cheek. 'Drive safe.'
It was so fatherly it felt foreign. Driving home, my phone
vibrated against my leg again, but I didn't pul it out until I
got to the parking garage. Two messages waited for me.
In bed. Not tired. What should I cal you?
And the second, Stil not sleeping.
I hadn't forgotten how I'd looked forward to every note.
I'd imagined the sender, my secret commander, crafting
each word with the intent of forcing me one more step
along a path so curved I couldn't see the end. I'd never
thought about how difficult it would be to come up with
