Page 50 of Feel Me

“What?” he asks.

“I didn’t understand love. I knew the word by signing it because it was one of the first words you asked the ASL teacher to teach you. But I didn’t know what it meant until you showed me.”

“Oh.”

It’s such a simple word he says. But I feel the tears behind it, just like I feel the ones filling my eyes.

Mae walks in, carrying my juice. She takes one look at us, places the juice on the table, and runs away sobbing.

“Nice. Way to make Mae cry,” he says like it’s my fault.

I wipe the tears that manage to escape, although by now I’m laughing. “You started it.”

“No. You did,” he says, coughing as he chuckles.

I push up and sit beside him, worried he’s not as comfortable with me so close to him. “What’s new at the office?” he asks.

“The usual: violent cases, a rotating door for repeat offenders, and the staff cracking inappropriate jokes to get through it.”

He waits before asking, “How’s Declan handling it?”

I think about everything Declan has taken on, and how he makes running the office and juggling his caseload appear effortless. The staff, as much as they were hesitant to approach him as acting D.A., as if somehow afraid that they were betraying Dad, all but run to Declan now. He’s earned their respect by working hard and supporting his team. It’s only when we’re alone that I see the toll the responsibilities have taken on him. But I don’t tell my father as much, keeping my response brief. “He’s doing really well.”

“Good,” he says. “I knew he would.”

“And we’re sleeping together.”

Oh, and there’s that dramatic pause I was expecting.

“That’s great, honey,” he says slowly.

“Dad . . .”

“No, really, it’s what every father wants to hear.”

“Daddy.” He reaches for the remote and flips the channel. “Are you seriously going to watch ESPN now?”

“Yup,” he answers, turning up the volume.

It’s the same thing he did when I told him I lost my virginity to Samuel Hudson. “You wanted this,” I point out. He turns back to me, raising his brows. “Okay, maybe not all the sex.”

“Allthe sex?” he asks, making a face. “How long has this been going on?”

“A few weeks.” Actually, several times a night over the past few weeks, but Dad is already looking ill enough. No need to share the dirty details. Although . . . if he weren’t so sick, I might have told him how Declan showed up at my door dressed as a hot pirate the other night.

“Argh,” he’d said, right before I pounced.

“Are things serious between you?” Dad asks.

They’re serious for me, but that’s definitelynotwhat my father needs to hear. “I’m not sure. We spend a lot of time together, inside and outside of work, but . . .” I shrug. “No one at the office knows. We’re keeping it quiet?”

“Mae and I have been having sex for years,” he blurts out.

I can actually feel my jaw unhinge.

“The first time was when you were fourteen. You were away at camp. I came home early and found her on her hands and knees scrubbing the bathroom floor. One thing led to another and?”

“You had sex with Mae on the bathroom floor!” I cover my mouth when I realize how loud I’m being.

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