Page 11 of Off Limits

Asa: it’s kind of time sensitive. Can we talk today?

Dad: we can talk now

Asa: I’d rather talk in person. It won’t take long

Dad: today doesn’t work. How about Wednesday?

Asa: It has to be today. It’s important.

Dad: you can call me

I blew out a frustrated breath. This wasn’t a conversation I wanted to have over the phone while I was parked in front of Zander’s house.

Asa: are you sure I can’t stop by?

My dad didn’t live too far from Zander’s. I could get there in twenty minutes if I hit the lights.

Dad: I’m on my way out soon. You can either call me, or we can talk on Wednesday.

Muttering a curse, I stabbed the call button and put the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” he answered, like he didn’t know it was me.

“Hi, Dad.”

“Asa.” He paused. “You wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “I was wondering if I could stay with you for a bit?”

“Come again?” he asked. “You want to stay with me?”

“Not for long. Just for a few weeks. A month, tops.”

“Why?”

I forced myself to keep talking, even as my chest tightened to the point where it was hard to breathe. Admitting to my dad that I was in trouble and needed help wasn’t easy, and I hated that I had to reach out to him at all.

“The company that manages my building evicted me so they could do some renovations on the unit. They only gave me three weeks to find a new place to live.”

He didn’t say anything, and the silence hung between us, heavy and foreboding.

“I tried to find somewhere else to stay while I get a new place, but I’m kinda down to the wire. I have to be out on Thursday.”

More silence. I could hear him breathing, so I knew the call hadn’t disconnected.

“This Thursday, as in four days from now,” I added, just in case my urgency wasn’t clear.

“And you want to stay with me?” he asked slowly. “Why didn’t you ask your mother?”

Because I spent enough time living in her house after you stopped wanting to see me, and I hate it there.

“I already asked and she said no,” I lied. I hadn’t asked her, and I wouldn’t because that conversation would go one of two ways.

Either she’d flat-out refuse and tell me to talk to my dad, or she’d agree, and I’d end up spending however long I stayed acting like my sibling’s nanny and her housekeeper. I played that role for four years before I moved out. There was no wayin hell I was backsliding into it again after finally getting some boundaries established.

I’d rather sleep under a bridge than go back to my old life.

“I’m really sorry, Asa, but I just don’t think it’ll work,” he said, only he didn’t sound sorry at all. He sounded distracted and a bit annoyed.

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