Page 87 of Three Pucking Words
All I can do is nod silently, still staring at my feet as they shift from one side to the other.
Suddenly, Dad’s hand is clenching my shoulder to regain my focus. “I know you think I’m being harsh, but I want what’s best for you. It’s obvious that I didn’t do what I should have when youwere younger. I’m not going to make that same mistake twice. If you choose to visit her, to talk to her, it’s your right to do so. But she will not be stepping foot into our place of employment and make demands. Okay?”
“Okay.” It’s a weak sounding answer, but I get it. Clearing my throat, I dip my head again in acknowledgement of the situation. “I’ll ask Bodhi to come with me if he has time.”
It’s the last thing I want to do, mostly to save what little pride I have left when it comes to my mother. But I my father is going to be just as stubborn as I am. Something I clearly get from him.
He does something I don’t expect.
He pulls me in for a hug.
It’s a warm one.
A tight one.
Like he’s been wanting to do it for a while but held himself back. His sigh is heavy as his arms tighten once more around me before releasing me. “I’m sorry, Honor.”
I frown. “For what?”
“For…” His Adam’s apple bobs. “For not being there for you when I should have been.”
Cal excuses himself, leaving us alone.
“I want to be there for you now,” he adds. “If you’ll let me be. I know it won’t change the past, but I’d like to make up for it however I can.”
I’m not good with sappy moments, especially with someone I didn’t know was capable of getting all emotional.
“You don’t…” My mouth is dry. “You don’t need to do that, Dad.”
His eyes meet mine. “That’s the first time you called me dad.”
That can’t be true. Can it? I’m gaping at him as if it’s not possible. But… it could be. Because I was a petty kid with a lot of pent-up frustration. Thanks to Mom. Thanks to my own interpretation of how a fathershouldact.
I’m an asshole. A giant one.
“Hey,” he says quietly. “Don’t.”
I frown. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t put this on yourself,” he says, somehow knowing what I’m thinking. “I’m the adult. I should have stepped up. Tried harder. That’s on me. Got it?”
I don’t agree, so I don’t say I do.
It doesn’t make me feel any better, anyway.
Dad squeezes my arm before backing up. “If you decide you want me to go with you, I can.”
We both know that’s not a good idea, so I shake my head. “That’s okay. Let’s just… Work on the future. Work on a relationship.”
His smile is small. Grateful. “All right.”
*
My father getsto Bodhi before I do, which is how I wind up standing in the lobby of the Plaza Hotel in midtown Manhattan with a professional hockey player by my side.
“Whoever’s card she used to pay for this is the dumbest person on the planet,” I mumble to Bodhi as I pull out the piece of paper that has the address and room number scrawled across it.
This hotel is almost two thousand dollars a night, and God only knows how long she’s been staying here. Why not our condo in Brooklyn? The only logical reason is that whoever she’s with prefers the lavish life. My childhood home certainly wasn’t anything special.
