Page 257 of Papa's Bébé
“How can we be late to our own party?”
“Matthieu!” she groaned.
“All right, let’s go.” He loaded the animals in the car, leaving Princess Priss, the chickens and Marshmallow behind. As shewas walking to the car, she saw him get out of a car parked on the sidewalk.
Matthieu saw him too and walked over to stand next to her.
“Dad?” she said with a question in her voice. He looked terrible. Old and haggard.
Like he’d aged ten years since she last saw him.
“I’ve made a horrible mistake,” he said, stopping a few feet away. “I believed her. All those years, I listened to the poison she fed me.”
She wanted to be angry at him. He’d let her down, time after time. All she’d wanted was to have a father and he hadn’t been there for her.
But he looked so lost and alone that she felt that anger melt.
“You loved her,” she said.
“Don’t make excuses for me. I might have loved her. But you were my daughter. You and Maisy and Marlin should have come first.”
“When Mom died it felt like I lost both of my parents.”
She didn’t want to hurt him. But she also wanted to get this poison out.
He nodded. “I know. I wasn’t there for you.”
“And then you married her and she was so awful. She made little digs at me all the time and you thought I was making it all up.”
“There’s nothing I can say to make it up to you other than to say I’m sorry. And to give you this.” He walked closer and Matthieu tensed but didn’t say anything.
Her father held out an envelope.
“It doesn’t make up for it. But hopefully it helps you. And maybe one day you’ll be able to forgive me. If I can forgive myself.”
She couldn’t think of what to say. She wasn’t there yet.
But maybe one day . . .
Matthieu guided her into the car as her dad left. Then he did up her belt. She was too dazed to do anything. When he got in, he reached over to grasp hold of her hand. “Want me to look at it?
She shook her head and opened it with shaky hands. Inside was a legal looking document with . . . she gasped.
“It’s the trust that Kathryn mentioned.” She’d wondered about it. “And I . . . I think I can access it. It’s so much money. So much of Mom’s money. Why would he give this to me now? And not before?”
“Guilt maybe. Who knows why he waited to give it to you.”
Part of her didn’t want it. But it wasn’t from her dad. This was from her mom.
“This could help build that house we want.” The house on his land. The one they talked about constantly.
“I told you. I provide the place where we live. As my woman, you let me do that. So I will pay for it.”
“But—”
“No buts.”
She sighed. “I guess there’s something else I could use the money for.”
