Page 7 of Sassy Surrogate
4
Danica
It wasn’t too long before we reached my tiny house in Table View. – the house I worked my ass off to buy and stand a good chance of losing now I’m officially unemployed, unless I can find something else soon. Like, seriously soon.
I reach for the door handle, and Kieran cautions me to wait. He hops out of the vehicle and comes around to open my door. Expecting him to take his leave of me now that his duty has been fulfilled, I’m taken aback when he indicates for me to lead the way and accompanies me to the front door.
Before I can thank him for everything, he reaches out a hand. “May I have your key please, Miss?”
My heart begins to pound. Surely, he doesn’t intend to do me harm with his boss sitting outside, mere metres away? I can only assume that my thoughts communicate themselves via my face as he speaks again.
“I’d be remiss in my duties if I allowed you to enter the house without ensuring that it’s empty. Heath – Mr Bailey – would have my–” The words are clipped off. “Let’s just say he’d be most displeased.”
Giving him a thorough once-over, I find myself coming back to the original impression of trustworthiness. I place them in his outstretched hand.
“Please wait here until I’m done and stay alert.”
“O–okay,” I stutter, alarmed at how serious he’s being. I quickly survey the area around us.
Does he know something I don’t? I turn back to ask him only to find he’s disappeared like smoke in a stiff Cape Town wind. I reach into my bag again, and this time I search for my pepper spray Gramps makes me carry everywhere. Silently, I send up a prayer of thanks that he did, because just holding the cold metal of the canister in my hand I feel a little better.
As ordered, I scan my street repeatedly to ensure that no one sneaks up on me, only to squeak in fright as Kieran speaks from behind me.
“All clear. You can come on in.” Without conscious thought, I swing around, my pepper spray at the ready. With gentleness belied by his size, he wraps a large hand around my wrist and lowers my arm. “Easy there. You really don’t want to set that off right now. Trust me.”
“How the hell did you move so quietly?” Clapping a hand over my mouth, I stare up at him, mortified. “Shit. Sorry. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. Sorry. I don’t mean to swear either.”
Kieran, the ever so serious, suited-and-tied Kieran, laughs. All the way from his toes, up through his huge chest, a laugh that has me chuckling too.
“It’s all good. It’s not like I haven’t heard it before or used worse myself. But if you prefer, we can keep it our little secret.” He grins at me for a moment longer before his face settles back into more serious lines. “I’ve been through the house, done a sweep of the back yard, and it’s all clear.”
“Thanks, Kieran. I really appreciate you taking the time.”
“You’re most welcome.” I watch as he reaches into his suit pocket and pulls out a crisp white business card with nothing more than a logo and a cell number on it. No name, no address. Nothing else. “If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to give me a call.”
“I– um, well, er– thanks. I appreciate it.” He touches two fingers to his forehead in a smart salute.
“It’s been a pleasure, Ms Brand. Take care now.” And with those parting words, the big man moves with a speed you wouldn’t expect as he heads back to his vehicle.
It feels so weird having a man other than Gramps express any kind of concern for my wellbeing. My father, for whom it should be a priority, is the one who is forever putting Mom and me in harm’s way.
As he walks toward the vehicle on my driveway, I scan the bit of the road I can see through my peephole. I wouldn’t put it past my father to follow me home and sneak up on me when I least expect it.
My relationship with my father is rocky and complicated. It hasn’t always been. Once upon a time, a lot of years ago, he used to be my hero. I loved him with everything in my child’s heart. Hewasmy everything.
As I got older and lost the blinkers of childhood, I became aware of the constant tension between my parents. The screaming matches, the stony silences and, what I later figured out, the physical abuse. Until one day, my mom woke me one Saturday morning and told me we were going to visit my grandparents for a long weekend.
We never left.
When my dad finally figured out my mom had no intention of coming back, he showed up at my grandparents’ home causing a nasty scene. That was the day my father lost his hero status. The day he openly slapped my mom and took a swing at my grandfather. Granddad first put him on his ass, then threw Dad off his property with the warning that the next time he came back he’d best have a good funeral policy.
That was the last time I saw my father until I graduated high school and left home for college. To this day, I still have no idea how he found me. One day he just appeared out of the blue, telling me how much he’d missed me and that he urgently needed money. I don’t even remember what for. I scraped money together and gave it to him, stupidly falling for his bullshit and setting a repeating pattern.
I have no doubt that’s why Dad was at the office today. Looking for money and, considering the state he was in, I’m going to hazard a guess that he needs it pretty desperately. I can’t tell Mom he’s returned like the proverbial bad penny. It’ll only upset her.
Sighing, I turn my gaze back to the Mercedes now pulling out of my drive, trying not to think of the predicament I find myself in. There will be no reference from Ginevra Rosdell. Even if she were to supply one, it wouldn’t say anything good anyway. If the miserable woman had her way, I’d be living on the streets, begging on corners for any crumbs.
All because I had the stones to tell HR I thought she was unnecessarily hard on the staff. She’s never forgiven me for lodging the complaint. Oh well, no point in worrying about her since she’s now part of my history. I can’t prevent another sigh from slipping past my lips as I mentally catalogue any contacts I might be able to hit up for references, other than Rebecca.
