Page 15 of Stowaway Whirlwind
Lily is still crying, and Goldie tries to soothe her when her dad steps back into his apartment and motions for us to follow him inside. “Come in, come in.”
Goldie’s eyes are watery when they connect with mine, but she swallows and quickly looks away before stepping through the door directly into the living room. I nearly knock her over when she stops short in front of me at the sight of his equally rundown apartment. It’s littered with crushed beer cans and energy drinks, and there’s another overflowing bucket of cigarette butts on the filthy wooden coffee table to our right that’s cracked down the middle.
“Goldie, you can’t—”stay here, I finish silently when I’m interrupted.
“Let me get a good look at ya.” Her dad grips her upper arms and leans back. “Damn girl, you look just like your mama now. How the hell have you been?”
Instead of answering him, she looks around the dirty apartment and starts, “Dad, I thought—”
He sets his hands on his hips after yanking up his waistband, only for his jeans to sag again on his thin frame. “Dad? When did you stop calling me ‘Daddy’?”
If there’s one good thing that’s come from this, it’s that my Goldie no longer calls himDaddy. He doesn’t deserve it.
She goes on as if he hadn’t spoken. “You said you were clean. This…the alcohol…”
His narrow face twists, and I don’t like the look he gives her when he says defensively, “I am clean. Alcohol ain’t got nothingto do with it.” He even thrusts out his forearms, flipping them over and back up. They’re pale and littered with old scars but clear of fresh track marks.
A quick glance at the coffee table, then to the kitchen counters—nothing but a ten or fifteen-foot distance from the front door—confirms the absence of any visible needles or drug paraphernalia. Getting clean and staying clean is just about the hardest thing a person can do, so I’ll give him points for that.
On a dime, his expression changes again, and he smiles. “Ah, don’t you worry none about it. A few beers never hurt nobody. And I’ll get this all cleaned up right quick. You’ll see.”
Goldie bobs her head nervously but drops the subject. She also avoids looking at me when I wave to the cigarette butts and tell him none too kindly, “You can’t smoke in here. Not with the baby.”
He’s got some kind of Jekyll and Hyde thing going on because he shoots me a dirty look. “Don’t you think you know better than me. Marigold did just fine when she was a kid, that’s right. The baby will, too.” He points at Lily, whose tiny chin quivers.
Goldie’s eyes are brimming with tears as she rolls her lips between her teeth and bites them. She takes a deep breath, clearly regretting it when she immediately starts coughing. “Um, I need to change Lily’s diaper and feed her. Which one is my room?”
“Sure, sure! Your room’s right on in here.” He points to the first door on our left—one of only two doors in the whole apartment. The other door, which is on the back wall to the left of the tiny kitchen, leads to an even tinier bathroom with a filthy vanity and equally filthy mirror. I don’t even want to think about the state of the toilet and shower.
My hand clenches tight around the backpack strap when I step into the bedroom behind Goldie and take in the bare,stained mattress shoved in the corner of the matchbox-sized room with a single pillow sans pillowcase. The purple bedding set still in its plastic packaging at the foot of the bed is probably the cleanest thing in this apartment, and I bet it already reeks to high heaven. The walls don’t look like they’ve received a fresh coat of paint in the last twenty years, smudged and scuffed with dirt and spilled liquids. The nightstand next to the bed looks like it was pulled out of a dumpster, and it, too, is littered with ash and an overflowing pint glass with brown liquid and cigarette butts.
“You can’t be fucking serious. This is where you expect them to sleep? On that nasty mattress?” Regretfully, I startle Lily again with my raised voice, making her flinch. I press myself to Goldie’s side, reach around her to hold and stroke Lily’s clenched fist, then whisper, “Sorry, pumpkin.”
Goldie’s dad sucks on his teeth as he eyes me up and down. “What, you think this ain’t good enough formydaughter? Just who the fuck are you, pal?”
“I’m the man taking care ofyourdaughter and her baby like you should have been doing all along. And no, this isn’t good enough for her or anyone else for that matter.”
“Herbaby?” He barks out a laugh. “If you ain’t even her daddy, why the fuck do you care?” His humor dissolves in an instant, and he rubs his jaw. “You know what? Doesn’t matter. Just get the fuck outta my house.”
Silent tears roll down Goldie’s plump cheeks, and her voice is thick with emotion when she says, “You said you had a room ready for me. That you were going to decorate it and…and—you lied. About everything.” She steps between her dad and me, which I despise since it puts her in the line of fire, drawing his attention and ire. I grab her waist, pull her back carefully so she doesn’t stumble over her feet, and then angle her behind my shoulder.
“Goddamn girl, you don’t gotta sound so ungrateful. I’m taking you in, letting you stay here for free, giving you my bed while I take the couch. Didn’t know you were gonna act like a selfish—”
“Don’t you talk to her that way, asshole.” I step fully in front of Goldie, blocking his view of her. At my height and probably seventy-five pounds heavier, I don’t hesitate to use my size to crowd him until he steps back, his back thumping against the bedroom wall. Without taking my eyes off her dad, I tell Goldie, “We’re leaving. All of us.” And we are. I’ll drag her kicking and screaming out of here if I have to.
It’s radio silence behind me as she leaves the room, and I’m relieved for all of two seconds until her dad sneers and steps up to me like he’s some kind of tough guy. “Who the fuck do you think you are? I’m her daddy, not you! And what I do and say to my own goddamn daughter ain’t none of your fucking business.”
I jam my finger in the middle of his chest. “You’ve got no right calling yourself her daddy when you let your pregnant teenage daughter hitchhike across four fucking states on her own.” I straighten my back, giving myself another inch as I roll my neck, ready to pounce on him if need be. “So fuck you—I’m herDaddynow, and I’ll do a hell of a lot better job than you, you drunk piece of shit.”
He shrinks, just like Goldie did when she got her first look at him. Once again, the relief is short-lived when Goldie screams my name from the living room. The sound sends ice-cold fear shooting down my spine, adrenaline rushing through my veins.
I turn my back on her dad and stomp into the living room, zeroing in on some grimy asshole with unwashed long brown hair who has her backed into the corner between the couch and the wall to the right of the open front door. Lily is wailing in her arms, held tight to Goldie’s chest, while Goldie tries to shield herfrom the creep advancing on them. Goldie’s eyes are swollen and red, and her terror is tearing up my insides.
“Ah, come on now, princess. I’m a nice guy. Don’t gotta be afraid of little ol’ me.” The guy lifts his hand to brush his fingers along her cheek.
Goldie snarls and slaps his hand away, bracing her back against the wall for balance to lift her leg and kick him right in the groin. The man must be on something to dull the pain because he barely reacts to what should have sent him howling to his knees, clutching the family jewels.
He whips his arm out, shouting, “You fucking b—”
