Page 133 of Rebel Romeo

“I’ve just never heard you say anything about my acting before.”

He grunts and the sound sends him into a chest rattling coughing fit.

Helpless, there’s nothing I can do for him, so I pour him more tea even though I know he hates it. Finally, once he catches his breath, he says, “I’ve told you you’re good.”

My brows lift. I’m not really in the mood to argue with him, but how in the hell can he believe that’s true? “When I was ten, you came to see me as young Cosette and you told me not to quit my day job.”

“I was joking! You were ten and your day job was playing with Barbies!”

Actually, at ten, Dad was already paying me to wash dishes at the pub, but I let that one slip.

Grunting, he bends down and pulls an old Playbill out of the bag resting on the floor at his feet, handing it to me.

“What’s this?” I ask.

“What’s it look like?”

“It looks like the program from my first show.”

He nods. “I kept it from your first opening night. That damn show,” he muttered. “Had to listen to you traipsing around the house singing at the top of your lungs day in, day out about the sun coming out tomorrow or some shit like that.”

A laugh bubbles out of me and I run my finger across the cartoon picture of Annie. “I thought you hated that show.”

“I did! Damn song got stuck in my head for a year. But it was also the first time I saw you come alive. Come out of your shell. You were always so shy until you were performing. You were damn good up there, too, though I don’t know for the life of me where ya get that talent from. Sure as shit ain’t from your mother or me. That woman can’t sing her way out of a paper bag.”

Another laugh escapes me because he isn’t wrong. Mom has a terrible voice. “But… you never came to see my show in college,” I state. “When I was the lead in Remy and Julie and we got this huge opportunity to perform at the Kennedy Center?—”

“Your mother told me there was a love scene,” he grumbled. “Forgive me for not wanting to watch my eighteen year old daughter simulate sex on stage.”

I fight a smile, biting the inside of my cheek. I haven’t seen this side of my dad much. “You know there’s a sex scene in this show.”

“Humph,” he grunts.

“And it’s more explicit than the one in college.”

He turns slowly to look at me. “Tell me what song it’s after and I’ll use that scene to hit the can.” There’s a glint of humor in his eyes despite the somber tone to his voice. “And if I don’t say it enough… I’m really proud of you, Katie. Any grief I gave you about this acting thing before, it was just because I was so worried about ya. I wanted a good life for you. One where you weren’t constantly worried about money like your Mom and me always were. It wasn’t because I didn’t think you had the talent. I’ve known you had the talent ever since the Father’s Day ballet show you put on for me in the backyard.”

Tears flood my eyes and I peel the face mask from beneath my eyes, at a total loss for words.

Junie comes up, weaving between our feet before she lithely hops onto the couch between us, curling up, tail swishing.

“Gotta admit, Katie, I was surprised you got back with that boy.” Dad’s tone is suddenly darker, his voice taking on a sharp edge.

“No one is more surprised than me, Dad,” I say quietly.

His hand falls to Junie’s head, giving her a gentle scratch behind the ears. “I don’t believe people can change. At least not that much.”

Adamantly, I shake my head. “He’s proving himself, Dad. I wouldn’t have thought so either. But he’s different. I… I trust him.”

Leaning forward, he takes another long sip of tea, grimacing at the flavor and muttering, “Damn dirt water,” under his breath. “Listen, Sprout. I know guys like Holden. I’ve known ‘em my whole damn life. When their world isn’t threatened, they’re great. When you fit into their life and things are smooth, they’re the best friends you can imagine. But the moment their world—their lifestyles—are threatened, they stop at nothing to prevent their wealth from vanishing. Things are easy for Holden. They’ve come easy his whole life with a Daddy willing to clean up his messes and throw cash at just about any problem. Even if it means crushing the girl he claims he loved.”

“You’re wrong. That was the old Holden. And his life has been anything but easy?—”

My protests are interrupted by another coughing fit. My dad yanks his hankie from his pocket and presses the white linen to his mouth.

But this time, the coughing doesn’t subside. Junie darts away, running into Jill’s room to hide as Dad bends forward at the waist, putting his head between his legs.

I rub his back, my concern growing. “Dad? Are you okay?”

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