Page 3 of Accidental Irish Daddy

I’m not cross about it or anything.

It’s just her way and it’s always been her way and, if I’m being honest, I know she has a point.

Personal connections aren’t really on my plate right now. Getting myself sober and staying that way is my priority. Inviting new people in has the potential to threaten that.

I can’t tell her that, though.

Martha’s always been like another ma to me, and I suppose that means all she wants is for me to find someone to settle down with.

Something I dream of doing someday. Something I can’t think of as of yet. Not while I have so much to deal with. So many demons to fight.

As for Da…that’s a different thing altogether.

I don’t have the inclination to call him back just now.

Oh, things have healed between us since the days he was stepping out on Mum.

But when he’s ringing me up over and over again like that, it’s usually not for anything good, and if I want to win this fight against myself, I have to keep my mind on the pleasant side of things whenever I can.

The teapot has started to whistle, so she gets up and grabs a cup from the cabinet. “All I know is that the next time your father calls me looking for you, I’m going to tell him you’ve fallen right back in the gutter. Like to see your face when he comes here and finds you arse deep in some floozy.”

I choke a little on my muffin.

On the few occasions when Martha gets vulgar, it’s always a surprise.

“All right,” I say. “I promise. I’ll call him when I get to the office.”

She makes her tea, then gives me a peck on the cheek and leaves.

I should have known that there’s no getting away from Da so long as Martha’s living on the property next to mine.

I leave shortly after Martha, getting in my car and heading out to the office. I’m not in the car five seconds before my phone starts ringing again. I sigh as my father’s name appears on the dashboard display.

I’d better answer to save myself from Martha’s wrath.

“Yeah, Da. I hear you’ve been looking for me.”

“Would it kill you to call your own father every once in a while?”

Not even a hello.

His response is sharp, and my mood sours knowing this is not going to be a pleasant conversation.

I knew I should have waited to call him.

I take a much-needed breath.

His voice comes through the sound system. “Honestly, I’ve been calling you all night.”

“I was busy. What’s up?”

He sighs.

He never sighs. Something’s up.

The hitch in his breath is clear and my stomach tightens with impending doom. “Da? Hey, Da, are you okay?”

He takes a deep breath, and it sounds shaky.

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