Page 24 of Unbreakable Love

I did need help. For a lot of things, but I was a damn good father, and so yeah, I screwed up today. But I didn’t need someone’s damn pity. And I didn’t need someone’s judgment.

“I’ve got people I can call.” I wasn’t nice about it, either.

The smile plastered on her face turned fake as hell, but she shook the note. “I’m sure you do, but I like your daughter. And it’s not a problem, so I wanted to offer. I’m not judging you for today, Mr. Kelley. I’m simply offering an easy solution if something ever comes up.”

I stood still, because damn her. She had no idea what I’d been through, what I lived every day. The looks I’d gotten, the whispers that followed. Sure, most of them now were about what a good dad I was, but they were always with a hint of surprise, like they assumed I’d suck at it.

Which was the exact feeling I was getting from Penny as she pressed her lips together. Slowly, she dropped the note to the porch. I watched as it fluttered to the ground. It somehow landed on my porch like a bomb ready to explode.

“Fine. Enjoy your night, Mr. Kelley.”

She turned and walked away, hurried down the sidewalk to the driveway and then pulled to an abrupt stop. “Just so you know, I practically raised my little sister with no help. Ever. And all I ever wished for was for someone to see me, to know I needed help and offer it with no strings. That’s all I was trying to do for you, but your choice. You don’t want it, fine. I still know I did the right thing in offering.”

She took off at a jog, the sweats she was wearing somehow managing to hide her curves and show them off as she ran down the street, up her yard. The slam of her front door behind her echoed through the neighborhood like a gunshot.

“Shit.” So maybe I’d screwed that up. Been rude to her—again—for no good reason.

I bent down and swiped up the piece of paper and went back inside.

For some stupid reason, I went straight to my phone and programmed her number into it. Further confusing me, I didn’t throw away her note. I shoved it in my wallet.

Just in case my phone died, and it was an emergency and I needed to get a hold of her.

That was what I told myself when I turned off the game I had no intention in watching and went to my shower.

Accepting Penny Pesco’s help would mean letting her further into my life, and the last time I’d barely attempted to do that with a woman ended in a disaster. But somehow, I couldn’t reach out, slam the door, and flick the lock on her offer either… or stop thinking about how her angry little looks made me feel something for the first time since Josie’s birth.

“We can’t see Goldie today,” I told Josie as soon as she climbed up in my truck.

I was right on time for pick-up today, and Penny wasn’t around to see it. I knew because I checked, scanned the crowd and line of teachers as I pulled into the lot. Part of me wanted her to see me show up on time, doing the right thing. See, I wanted to say to her with a look, I don’t need help. I’m actually a damn good dad.

It was days after she showed on my porch and I was still thinking about it. Still feeling shitty for my rudeness again, still feeling bad about the parting shot she’d left me stewing in.

Instead, a ball of irritation grew when I didn’t see her because I didn’t get to prove to her I didn’t need that help she offered. I still couldn’t shake the reason why she said she gave it, or the reminder of the conversation Josie overheard. She doesn’t have a dad, and she really doesn’t have anyone.

Everyone needed someone.

“Is Grandma still sick?” Josie pouted and hugged her backpack to her chest.

“Yeah.” Her fever and sore throat had turned into a nasty sounding cough. “I was thinking we could make a card for her tonight, though, and go to Millie’s for dinner?”

I still hadn’t stopped at the store for more food, but we could always do that after Millie’s.

“Can I get dessert there?”

Dessert at Millie’s meant a piece of chocolate cake the size of Josie’s face and on a school night, she’d be awake far past her bedtime.

“Please, Daddy?” Josie whined from the back seat. “I haven’t seen Goldie or Grandma for days and days. Chocolate might make me not be so sad anymore.”

It’d been days and days since I’d been listening to Josie whine about not seeing Goldie or Grandma. Frankly, I could use a sugar coma myself. “Fine, but only if we share it.”

She sighed dramatically. “I suppose that’s okay.”

In the big scheme of things, it was cake. Since I was usually strict about sweets during the school week, giving in once couldn’t hurt anything. Either that or I was so wrapped around her finger I couldn’t see straight anymore.

We headed home, where I studiously avoided shifting my eyes in the direction of Penny’s home to see if she was back from school yet. It didn’t matter. After how I treated her, I was certain there wouldn’t be any further offers from her to help me out with Josie.

Once inside, Josie worked on her spelling words and math facts while I showered the day’s dust and grime and sawdust off me. The homes were wrapped and half of them were shingled. For the ones where we were still waiting on the rest, we covered the roofs in plastic. Tomorrow’s snow was supposed to hit overnight and depending on how much we had in the morning, it could mean a lost day of work to us. We’d worked hard all day to ensure we got done as much as possible. After dinner and the store, I’d swing us out through the development to take one last look at everything to ensure the crews finished up properly.

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