Page 12 of Bitter Beats

“Shit.” I grip my elbow where I bumped it.

Before me, Grounds and Grinds beckons. It’s my last shot. My last hope. Ineedthis.

Blowing out a deep breath and straightening my spine, I cross the street. Before I enter the café, my phone rings and I stall, almost grateful for the interruption.

“Hello?” I answer.

“Mckenna,” Dad’s voice comes through the line.

“Dad? What number are you calling from?”

“Oh, I’m in the Bahamas this week. Didn’t Carrie email you?” He references his personal assistant because clearly, his emailing me would be too much to ask for.

“Must have slipped her mind,” I mumble, twisting a lock of hair around my finger as I loiter in front of the café. “How’s your trip?”

“Good. Good. You know, work.”

“Right.”

Silence stretches between us.Why did you call?I want to yell the question but instead, I clear my throat, prompting him.

“I, uh, I wanted to see if you’re free for dinner next week,” Dad says slowly.

“Dinner?”

“Yeah. Thursday night?”

Gah, why is this so awkward?

“Okay.” I mean, obviously I have nothing going on, so I don’t have to check my busy social calendar but, “What’s the occasion?”

My heartbeat thumps in my eardrums as a little bubble of hope expands in my stomach. Does he want to get together to just…talk? To see me and spend time together? I bite the corner of my mouth, waiting, as my toe taps out a beat on the pavement.

“I, um, I’m seeing someone,” he explains.

I close my eyes. My bubble of hope pops. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Jeannie wants to meet you.”

“Great,” I manage as a slickness sweeps through me. So, he only wants to have dinner with me because Jeannie suggested it? I blink back my disappointment and hope the ball of hurt in my throat melts.

“Good. Say, 7 PM?”

“Works for me.”

“Carrie will email you the details.”

“Okay. I… Dad?”

Silence. I pull my phone away from my ear and stare at the screen. He already disconnected. Wow. Not even a good-bye.

Shaking my head, I slip my phone into my purse and suck in an inhale. It’s my fault for getting my hopes up. The past two years and the way my relationship with my parents has disintegrated as they battled through their divorce has taught me that I can only rely on myself. I need to show up for me.

With that thought ringing in my mind, I enter the café.

“Good morning,” a cheery voice greets me.

I glance in the direction of the woman and freeze.

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