Even watching the footage she’d taken on her tablet, I couldn’t quite believe that was me. She’d promised to send me a copy of it later to show Dad. But I had a feeling I’d keep it stored in my cloud account for a while.
I grabbed a bottled water from the fridge and tiptoed down the hall, sure he’d be off the phone soon. Well, I’m assumed it was the phone; I didn’t hear a second side to the conversation.
“My schedule’s clear…”
Something stopped me on the other side of the partially open door, just outside of Dad’s view. My stomach started churning, and I took a gulp of the cool water to try and settle it down. Why did I have the feeling I wasn’t going to like what I overheard next? I eased back closer to the wall, trying to stay as silent as possible.
“Two days or three, it doesn’t matter. As long as it takes to make sure everything’s worked out when I leave.”
I must have moved more than I thought because the door squeaked as I slightly brushed against it, and I froze, swearing under my breath.
Dad suddenly turned in his chair and saw me, his eyes widening in surprise as our gazes met, obviously not expecting it to be me standing there. I guess he figured I’d be gone for the whole day and not just part of it. Either that, or he’d have closed the door.
“I’ll call you back in a few, alright? Chey just came home. Okay, talk to you then.”
He clicked the phone off and waved me into his office. He looked a little paler than he had just a few short seconds ago, but I played it off as just being my eyes adjusting to coming in from outside.
Somehow, I took a couple of sheepish steps forward, toying with the water bottle in my hand. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“It’s okay.” He motioned for me to take a seat across the desk. “Did you have a good afternoon with Sorche?”
“Yeah,” I answered automatically as I sat down across from him, wishing I’d brought in the tote bag as it would have given me something more substantial to fidget with or show off, or give us another topic of conversation to go with, other than what had that conversation I’d inadvertently overheard been about?
I saw him watching me, trying obviously to read my expression.
“You’re going somewhere?” I asked in a fog. That was the only thing my brain could latch onto.
Dad sighed as he met my gaze, and I could tell he wished I hadn’t overheard what I had. I had a feeling he’d wanted to come up with a better way to break the news to me.
I watched him lean back in his chair, a sheepish expression on his face. He broke our gaze for half a second, scanned his desk, then looked back at me.
“Something’s come up…totally out of the blue.”
“Right,” I said, trying not to sound as hurt as I suddenly felt. The promise of not working while I was here seemed to fly out the window the moment anything came up.
Anything important, I should say.
That’s what it felt like, at least.
Things that didn’t quite matter—
Birthdays - check.
Graduation - check.
Summer just us together hanging out - check.
Chey - check
Everything was more important than me.
“It’s just business, Chey.”
Just business. Which obviously meant I couldn’t tag along. And I was just on my summer vacation, fresh from graduating high school.
No biggie.
Hell, who cared it was the first time I’d been to California in seven years, or that this was supposed to be father-daughter time?
Father and daughter time I’d been jipped of for how long?
Too long. My mom’s voice rang out in my mind, and I couldn’t help agreeing with her.
“I can tell you’re upset…”
Wow, he must be a gifted mentalist, right? I almost wanted to laugh thinking of my fortune from the fortune cookie I’d stuck in my wallet. ‘Good things come to those who wait’ evidently no longer described me.
“Forget it. It’s fine.” I ignored the burning of tears starting to rear up and blinked rapidly, not wanting him to see them.
“I can’t get out of it, but I promise it’ll only be a few days.”
’Course he couldn’t.
And promise. He sure liked to throw that word around.
“You’ll never even know I’m not here,” he continued. “I’m sure Sorche has all sorts of plans for you two. You’ve been pretty well inseparable since you met.”
“Sor’s working.” Well, technically, according to our over lunch convo, she was auditioning, but what was the difference? Busy spelled busy. So what was I supposed to do?
“And you haven’t met anyone else to hang out with?”
Besides Trish and Milo? I wanted to counter.
Who else was I supposed to meet?
Where was I supposed to meet anyone?
“Not really.”
Okay, so now, I was feeling really lame. My cell phone should have been filled with the numbers of the rich, famous, and wannabes, as Sorche had called them at the party. I couldn’t help but think she threw wannabes in the same class as the sharks she’d wanted me to avoid.
My schedule should have been booked solid. I should have been the one telling my father I didn’t have time for him—not the other way around. Maybe this was exactly what Mom wanted to protect me from.
She’d love to know how right she was.
“Like I said, it’s no biggie,” I said softly as I stood up. I needed to get out of there before the tears really began to fall and I ended up messing this whole thing up beyond repair.
“I’ll make it up to you.”
Yeah, how exactly was that going to work? Another BMW? Maybe another closet full of designer clothes? Or a platinum AMEX all of my own?
No, thanks.
Not interested.
I started for the doorway, wishing my cell phone I’d left on the hall table would go off and give me an excuse to get out of there. If he clearly didn’t want me there, then I didn’t want to stay any longer than necessary.
“Don’t bother. I get what’s most important to you around here.” And clearly, at that moment, it wasn’t me.
“Chey, it’s not like that.”
I paused and turned around, crossing my arms over my chest as I lifted my chin, staring at him defiantly.
Just how was it?
“Not like what, Dad? It sounds like you’re about to jet off somewhere for a couple of days.”
I motioned to his phone sitting on the corner of his desk as I tried to keep from throwing a tantrum a two-year-old would have been proud of.
“Look, it’s a couple days, three, tops in NYC.”
I could hear my mother’s voice saying see? right now.
“Uh huh. You promised me—not to mention Mom—that you weren’t going to be working this summer, but here you are, again. First, it was the press junket, and now this. What else is going to pop up? I’m amazed you managed to tear yourself away from whatever—or whoever—to pick me up at the airport in the first place. So you know what, Dad? Don’t bother doing me any favors. Go to New York, go for a day, go for a week, you know what? Go for the whole damn summer, for all I care.”
With that said, I turned and hurried out of the room before he could stop me and see the tears starting to fill my eyes. I almost wished I’d slammed the door behind me for good measure as I hurried through the house, grabbing my keys and my purse, trying to find a spot to seek refuge.
Somehow, I ended up in the dark garage, my vision still blurred with tears. I let myself into my car and sat there in the dark for a while, letting the tears fall. All I knew right then was that I wanted to get away from him, far away. Maybe I could go to the mall or something. Any place I could lose myself for a couple of hours.
My summer vacation was going downhill at a rapid rate. Faster than I’m sure even Mom would have predicted.
I knew the smart thing would be to call Mom and cut my trip short, head home. I co
uld go work delivering pizzas again. That would keep me busy.
But part of me, ninety-nine percent of me, really, wanted to stay.
If Dad didn’t want to be a part of my plans, then fine, I’d come up with Plan B.
And I knew for a fact Sorche would love to help dream up a Plan B.
I went to reach for my cell phone to text her when my hand brushed a folded up piece of paper in my purse. I would have laughed if I wasn’t already feeling so miserable. I picked up the paper and unfolded it, noticing how worn it had become from being in my purse for so long.
I spread it gingerly across the steering wheel, carefully smoothing out the wrinkles while doing my damnedest not to hit the horn. The last thing I wanted to alert anyone where I was. Not that there was likely anyone looking for me. My phone had been remarkably silent since I’d gotten in the garage. If he’d been concerned, he could have phoned or texted, but there was nothing.
Emails got accidently deleted. Same with screen caps. That paper was proof he’d wanted to spend time together.
The same paper I’d shown Mom before I’d pleaded for her to let me go on this little trip.
Even in the darkness of the garage, I knew what the email said. I had it practically memorized after all.
He was so proud of me and all my hard work. So happy I was graduating top of my class. So happy I had a bright future ahead of me. He was so sorry he wouldn’t be able to make it, things just conflicted too much, but he’d be there in spirit. Maybe if Mom would let me, I could come out to California for the summer so we could spend some time together?
I still remembered my conversation with Mom on the way to the airport.
“I don’t want you to be disillusioned.” We were barely out of the driveway before she started in on things.
“How am I going to be disillusioned?”
“You don’t know him like I know him, Chey.”
“That’s my point! I’m almost eighteen, and I barely know my own father. Why not give me a chance to see what he’s like? What’s the worst that can happen?” I really shouldn’t have asked that. “It’s a great opportunity. I can see a different city, I can check out UCLA. Really sink my teeth into the California thing.”
“That’s what I don’t want you doing, either, Chey. It’s different out there. Just don’t get so caught up in everything. It’s easy to do.”
“Chey?” I heard Trish’s concerned voice from the side door to the garage as I came out of my thoughts.
“I’m fine,” I called in the darkness.
I was.
Really.
I just wanted to be alone with my pity party.
I quickly folded the paper back up and stuffed it inside my purse before she could see it.
Her soft footsteps grew louder as she neared, before the passenger door opened and the overhead light flicked on, startling me with its brightness.
“You don’t sound fine,” she announced as she dropped into the passenger seat beside me and, thankfully, closed the door, which extinguished the overhead light.
My vision slowly returned to normal as the darkness of the garage once again enveloped us.
“Let me guess, he sent you to either make peace or tell me I’m on the next flight home?” I asked, not bothering to look over.
“Neither, actually. He doesn’t know I’m here.”
“I seem to be falling under that umbrella myself.” I fell back against the seat, my hands grasped around the leather steering wheel.
“Look, I know he hasn’t been your perfect version of a father so far, Chey, but give him a chance, okay? He’s got a lot of stuff going on.” Trish’s voice came out soft.
“Then why invite me in the first place?” I countered angrily, my voice rising. Just once, I wanted him to try. For me. No other reason. Just me. Was that really so damn hard to ask?
“Why don’t I get you dinner reservations somewhere? You and Sorche can have a night out.” She offered. “I’ll see if there’s any good shows tonight, maybe someone you’d like to see in concert? I have connections. I can get you two a hotel room for after even, you can crash some place fun.”
My fingers traced the grooves on the steering wheel. “I don’t know. I think I’d be lousy company.”
I mean, if I was going to ruin my friendship with Sorche, it might as well be over something a little more worthy than my crappy attitude at the moment.
“Well, I’m not Sorche, but I do have a couple cartons of ice cream in the freezer inside and access to a pretty cool theatre room. We could wallow there for a while,” she offered, and I could see the concern in her eyes as she looked at me. It seemed like something Mom would have done if she was here.
“No Dad?”
“Not a single sighting, I promise.”
“Deal.” I could do with a healthy dose of mocha fudge ice cream and a hundredth viewing of one of my favorite movies.
7
The two days before Dad left for NYC felt different from my first few days in Los Angeles. I’m pretty sure he thought I must be hormonal or something after my semi-outburst (which I wasn’t, thank you very much), so I made sure we kept our distance. I didn’t feel like arguing or being told I needed to go home. Because I was pretty sure that would be his go-to response if we had another fight.
So I spent my afternoons by the pool or swimming laps. Sorche was busy with some auditions, so it was just Trish and me most days as I did my best not to spend more than a moment or two with my father. Heck, I even got used to seeing Milo around the house and did everything to ignore the sting of jealousy that he was spending more time with my own father than I was.
The morning Dad left, I climbed out of bed before the sun was up, tied my hair back in a ponytail, and headed downstairs to see him and Trish off in my pajamas.
Dad looked at his suitcase waiting by the door. “You sure you’ll be okay?”
Was that a note of apprehension in his voice?
“I have all the numbers and Milo’s a phone call away,” I assured him.
Not that I was counting down the minutes to the second he got on the plane or anything, but suddenly, I was looking forward to a few days on my own. I could really get settled in, adjust to my new surroundings, and get to work on my tan, even though I had the pretty good start of one already thanks to all the time I’d spent in the water the last few days. Not to mention try and forget that little argument—it’s not like either of us had actually apologized, but it hovered like a little black cloud hanging over the house, giving the place an air of unease.
Trish smiled as she came in from the kitchen, a small bottle of orange juice in hand, and I was glad she was going with him. I had the feeling they’d talked about her staying behind, but I wasn’t a baby in need of a babysitter.
“He’s on twenty-four/seven Chey duty. Nothing will happen,” she assured Dad, wrapping an arm around my shoulders for a quick side hug.
He nodded. “I know. I trust Milo with my girl’s life.”
Oh, goody. Didn’t know he and Milo were that close.
We heard the beep of a car horn, and Trish checked out the front windows. “Car’s here.”
“I’ll give you a call once we land,” Dad said as he gave me a hug goodbye.
My first hug in days, definitely not as strong a hug as when he’d picked me up at the airport. I pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as he pulled back.
I nodded, taking a step back so they had room to get their bags together. “Sounds good. I’ll stick close to the house today.”
Trish put the juice in her oversized purse for the ride to the airport. “Don’t think of it. If you and Sorche want to go out, go ahead. We can get a hold of you on your phone.”
“She’s right,” Dad agreed as he opened the door and motioned for the driver to come and help with the bags. “Don’t hole yourself up at home because of me. This is your chance to be free.”
He cast a smile my way, and for a moment, all the tension between us seemed to fade away.
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I laughed wearily. Words I wouldn’t repeat to my mother. “I’ll be fine. Maybe I’ll go crazy and go out for dinner on my own.”
“Good.” Trish gave me a quick hug. “You need anything, call Milo. He’ll come right over.”
Cruel Summer Page 10
