Page 29 of A Slice of Love

“I’m going, I’m going.”

He pulls open the front door, takes one step out, and pauses again, looking back at me with sad eyes.

I sigh. “What now?”

“You’re gonna be mad.”

His eyes aren’t sad; they’re guilty.

“Julian…what did you do.” It doesn’t come out a question, more of a threat.

He shoots me a sweet smile.

“Well,” he drawls out, “I kind of made a date for us.”

I feel the color drain from my face, shaking my head, eyes wide. “You didn’t. Please tell me you didn’t.”

“I did. We’re having drinks with Jonas tomorrow night.”

“But…why? Why would you do that to me?”

He lifts a shoulder. “Because, Frankie, it’s time you got some fuckin’ answers. If you’re too chickenshit to question Jonas, I will. I respected your boundaries when you were away for school, but after seeing the way you looked at him and reacted to him tonight, it’s clear there’s still something eating at you. Besides, you need a night out. You’re dealing with a lot with your dad. Let’s go out and let loose.”

He’s got me there. I am struggling with my father.

I’m irritated with him for cutting ties when I chose my version of happiness and not his. He missed out on my entire college career because of his stubbornness. My art was displayed in two prominent galleries, and the intractable man refused to attend either events. I had my art printed in a national magazine and didn’t even get a phone call orGood jobtext.

He abandoned me because I wasn’t fitting into his mold.

So, yeah, I’m angry.

But I’m also scared because the cancer isn’t getting any better. It’s spreading, and he might not be around much longer to be angry at.

I could use a drink or two to keep the anger at bay—anger at both my fatherandJonas.

“I don’t want answers. I just want to move on.”

He gives me a look. He knows better than anyone that any attempts I’ve made at moving on have been futile.

No matter how angry I am, I can’t seem to stay away.

It always comes back to Jonas, and I’m starting to think it always will.

He shrugs again. “Just think about it. I’ll see you tomorrow. And don’t forget the—”

“Donuts.” I roll my eyes. “Yeah, I heard you.”

“Night, Frankenstein.”

“Night, Igor.”

Slice Five

Jonas

“Thanks for staying late and helping. We appreciate it, son.” Simon Daniels, my boss and the owner of Slice, claps me on the back. “I’m sure you have much better things to do than help out around here.”

“It’s no problem, Mr. Daniels. It’s kind of nice being back at the old hang.”

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