Page 14 of Daddies' Little Troublemaker

He fixes us sandwiches, and there’s a short bit of awkwardness when he doesn’t remember that I can’t stand onions in any way, shape or form, but he quickly slides the grilled onions into a container and pops them back in the fridge.

We take our sandwiches and hard lemonades to the deck outside so we can eat overlooking the large, deep blue swimming pool.

“You’ve done a lot with the yard,” I say, noticing the climbing flowered vines and the pergola covering half of the pool, the lounge chairs sitting to one side underneath a large umbrella. “It looks really nice.”

“Thanks.” There’s an ironic twist to his lips. “I started watching some of those home improvement reality shows and getting inspired.”

I wonder if he started watching them because he was seeing someone, but as far as I know, Dad never dated anyone long-term after he and Mom divorced.

“Hey, before I forget.” He pulls a key from his pocket and hands it to me. “I got a new door a while ago, better locks. So this is the new key.”

“Thanks.” I take the warm metal from his hand. It’s silver and kind of pretty, as far as house keys go, so I quickly unclasp the chain I usually wear around my neck and slide the key on.

Dad grins. “You used to wear your keys like that in high school.”

“Hey, it’s convenient. I never lost them.”

“True, true. So, tell me about you,” he says. “The school didn’t renew your contract?”

“Nope. Not enough interest in French there. Everyone wanted to take Latin or Chinese—neither of which I know.” I shrug. “And I needed to get out of Fair Heights, anyway.”

Out of Fair Heights and away from Chloe, Troy, and Mom.

“Do you know what’s next?” His blue eyes widen as he hurries to say, “I mean, I don’t want to rush you—you can stay here as long as you want, Pumpkin. I’m just wondering about what you want to do.”

I run a finger through the condensation gathering on my hard lemonade bottle. “I don’t know. French teachers aren’t in high demand.”

“I know you previously said you have no interest in translation work, but if you ever change your mind, you know who to talk to.”

Smiling over at him, I say, “Mom?”

He guffaws, but sobers immediately. “Sorry, I’m not trying to?—”

“Hey, I’m the one who brought it up. She wouldn’t know the first thing about getting and keeping a job.”

“I know, but I never want to speak badly about her in front of you.”

“Dad,” I say. “I’m an adult and I’m perfectly aware of quite a number of her faults.”

“I know. It’s just, I never wanted Francesca and me to be the kind of divorced parents who spoke badly about each other in front of the kids.”

I don’t bother telling him that Mom never operated with the same courtesy. He probably knows this.

“Well, I wasn’t aware enough to appreciate it as a kid, but I appreciate it now,” I say. “And I don’t know if I came out and said it, but I’m sorry for being a butthole about Uncle Lincoln staying in my room. I wasn’t using it anyway, and it was a stupid thing to fight over.”

“You were still a kid,” Dad says.

“An asshole teenager,” I say, “but yeah.”

He grins. “I’m just glad we have this chance to reconnect now.”

“Me too.” I survey the pool, thinking I might go for a swim later this afternoon. “So, you’re probably wondering what happened…why I called, why I need a place to stay.”

“I don’t want to pry, but of course,” he says. “If you want to talk about it, I’d love to know what’s going on in your life.”

I give him the short version: Troy cheated with Chloe and moved out. I couldn’t afford the apartment on my own after the private school where I worked let me go.

“Wait,” Dad says. “Chloe? He cheated on you with your sister?”

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