Page 41 of Until Daddy

She didn’t look at him, couldn’t look at him. She didn’t want to see the pity that would be there. “My father came back around a few times, trying to get back with her. But really, he just needed a place to stay until he got another job or found a new woman to latch on to. Once, he took me. He woke me up and pretended we were going to school, but he didn’t take me to school. He took me to some rundown apartment on the south side. He wouldn’t let me call my mom. He took me to some government agency; he wanted to get housing assistance, food stamps and all that stuff. With me, he could get more than what they were going to give him for just himself. But I messed it up and when they asked about my mom, I told them the truth. He dumped me on the corner of our street and took off. The shelter had a legal department that helped her finalize the divorce and get the court to grant her sole custody—not that he fought it. He just signed me away. But if it wasn’t for that shelter, Mom wouldn’t have been able to do that. She wouldn’t have gotten a decent job.”

His jaw clenched as she spoke, and by the time she’d finished telling him, a pulsating tic in his right cheek had taken over. But she wasn’t done telling him everything. If he wanted it all, he was going to get every bit of it.

“Your father, he bought a building when I was in high school. A high rise near Boystown. A friend of mine lived there, a few of the apartments were low income housing. He managed to get that overturned and bought the building, raised the rents and evicted most of the tenants living there.”

“That sounds like my father.” Bitterness laced his tone. “That’s why you said my father wasn’t a good man. Why you think he may have had more to do with my mother walking out.”

“Yeah.” She didn’t tell him about her upcoming phone call. If it turned out to be a dead end, she didn’t want him to get hurt. He closed the gap between them, his body brushing up against her knees. Instinctively, she opened her legs and brought him closer. Both of his hands captured her face and he brought his lips down on hers. A soft kiss. Short and sweet… aside from the residual burn of the hot sauce.

“I’m sorry for what you went through. And I’m sorry for what my father did. He’s never had much of a heart, unfortunately. Why didn’t you tell me any of these things?” He pressed his forehead against hers.

“I wasn’t ready, I guess.” Would she ever have been? She’d never told any of her boyfriends about her time living in the shelters. Only Jade really knew her whole past—and, apparently, Garrick.

Moving from one shelter to the next, having hope that maybe this was the last time. Hoping against all odds her mother would be able to keep them in a real apartment, and having her hopes dashed when her mother came in with another eviction notice because the rent was overdue.

Living in fear that some social worker would deem her mother unfit because the odd jobs and low paying positions couldn’t keep a roof over their heads and would take her away from her mom. How do you express that to someone so early? Or ever? How do you relive the shame of being the kid in class with two left shoes because it’s all the shelter had for you at the time?

And here was Jamison, son of the man who ripped away the safety net so many kids like her depended on. Could he really be different? Just thinking that he could be part of getting rid of the shelter made her stomach twist.

But the worry and the anger about the situation had deflated just by telling him. Her daddy would see to it that the right thing was done. Could she really dare to believe that?

“You don’t have to come to dinner on Sunday. If you’d rather not, I understand.”

She pulled away from his grip and studied his face, expecting to find pity and surprised to find none. She wouldn’t tolerate pity—not from him, not from anyone.

“Of course I’ll go. I’ll even behave.” She smiled.

He laughed. “Oh, baby, I’m not sure that’s even possible.” He wiped his thumb across her bottom lip. “Would you like some milk now?”

She’d all but forgotten the burn in her mouth. “Can I have a glass of wine instead?”

“Nope. I have some rewarding and teaching to do with you when we get home, so no more wine.”

Rewarding sounded like a good idea, but teaching could mean many things. And she would bet the gallon of rocky road sitting in her freezer that her hairbrush might be involved.

She sighed. “Okay, milk then.”

“Carissa, are you okay? You guys coming back in here?” Jade called from the dining room.

Carissa laughed and Jamison helped her off the counter. She left him pulling a gallon of milk out of the fridge and walked toward the dining room.

“Keep your pants on, Jade,” she called into the dining room. “At least until we leave.” Which hopefully would be soon, she thought. The idea of lessons and rewards held more appeal than whatever Jade was serving for dessert.

Chapter 11

“Your place?” Carissa asked when Jamison continued to drive down Lakeshore Drive and not turn off toward her part of town.

“Yes, if that’s okay? I didn’t think you’d want Mr. Buschmann to possibly overhear your spankings.”

“Spankings?” she said, emphasizing the plurality.

He nodded but didn’t look at her. He was still processing everything in his mind. She’d been a child and had had to deal with so many grown up things. The shelter was obviously very important to her, and now that he knew about it, he wouldn’t allow it to be bought out or torn down.

What she’d told him about his father hadn’t been uncharacteristic, but hearing about someone who had been directly affected by his father’s lechery, his greed—someone innocent like Carissa’s friend—made his gut twist into a knot.

“Well, that might be over stating, and I don’t like giving you all the information up front about what’s going to happen, but I’m pretty confident there will be at least one spanking. You weren’t a very good girl at Garrick’s during dinner, were you?”

“No, Daddy. But we talked in the kitchen and you already punished me.” She looked at him with a pout. “And it was awful, Daddy.”

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