Page 53 of House of Scarlett
I call Flynn’s name, but she’s oblivious. I walk closer and wave both arms over my head, wincing at the stretch.Bad plan. Don’t do that again anytime soon.
Flynn jerks off the couch, her headphones fall off her head, and her phone goes flying. “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me. What was that about? Are you practicing standing on top of a building waving down a rescue helicopter or something?”
“What are you doing here? How did you get in?”
She rolls her eyes at me before she drops to her hands and knees to fish out her phone from under the couch. “Legend. Although Amy would’ve let me in. We bonded at the hospital. I’m pretty sure I could rob you blind now, and she wouldn’t even raise an eyebrow.”
She continues rambling about something, but my brain is stuck on her first word.Legend.He let her in.
“He left?” I ask, interrupting her.
“Well, yeah, Scarlett. The man does have a club to run. He said something came up at work when he texted. He didn’t want you waking up alone when he left for a few hours, and since I don’t have class again until tomorrow at eleven, I said no problem. But, I have to say, your couch might be cute, but it’s uncomfortable as fuck.” She stretches her neck from side to side. “I almost crawled in bed with you, but judging by your response to finding me in your living room, I’m guessing that would’ve scared the piss out of you.”
“Good choice,” I tell her, but inside, I can’t help but think the only person I want to wake up and see in my bed is the man who had to leave. The image of a tousled blond head on the pillow beside mine rises in my brain, and I’m in no hurry for it to leave.What a way to start a day.
Flynn, unfortunately, doesn’t know that.
“Did you know that there’s a scientist who is starting to think the appendix might have some kind of use? Better hope it’s not true, because you’ll be fucked.”
“Thanks, Flynn. That’s exactly what I want to hear right after they took mine out.”
She shrugs. “Yeah, I know. But it’s better than the alternative, which would have been it rupturing and you dying a long, painful, disgusting, agonizing—”
“I get the picture.”
I release a long sigh and remind myself how grateful I am to have her back in my life. I’ve even written about her in my gratitude journal a few times lately, because it’s so nice to feel like I have family again.
And that thought brings me back to a shitty one I don’t want to think about—my father still hasn’t tried to see me. At all.
“What’s wrong? Are you thinking about your bunk appendix?”
I glance up at her and hit her with full honesty. “I’m thinking about how it sucks that my dad doesn’t give a damn about the fact I just had surgery.”
Flynn’s face lights up. “But he does! He did. He called!”
“What? When?”
“While you were asleep. Your phone was out here. I saw his name come up on the screen, so ... I kind of answered it.”
Oh Lord.I send up a silent prayer as I ask her, “What did he say? What did you say?”
Flynn’s lips pinch together, and I know guilt when I see it.
“Flynn ...”
“Look, I just told him the truth—that he was a garbage human for not coming to the hospital when you were having surgery. I also might’ve mentioned that he was a super piece of shit for not sending flowers or calling to check on you sooner.”
“What did he say?” I brace, because my father doesn’t like being reminded of his shortcomings.
“That he was busy, and you would understand because, unlike his ungrateful former stepdaughter, you are an adult who gets that there are sometimesbusiness mattersthat must be handled before personal ones. He also said, and I quote, ‘Scarlett can handle herself. She doesn’t need her father holding her hand anymore.’”
“He never held my hand,” I say quietly, before turning around so she can’t see the pain on my face.
“Oh shit, Scarlett. I’m sorry. He’s a fucking asshole and a shit dad, and I wish I could change that for you. At least he’s around sometimes, though. I haven’t seen my dad in fourteen years. I don’t even bother to Facebook stalk him anymore because he looks so happy not having me in his life. I fucking hate him for that.” By the time Flynn finishes her statement, she’s standing in the kitchen with her arms wrapped around my shoulders in a hug. “We can make voodoo dolls and stab them, if it’ll make you feel better. I may or may not know where to get the scary shit that makes it work for real.”
I lean against Flynn for a moment, soaking up the sisterly affection. It’s something I’d wanted for years, until my first stepsister, Martina, turned out to be a manipulative monster who my mother wanted to strangle on my behalf. I stopped going to my father’s house during the days he was supposed to have custody, but he never complained or really even seemed to notice.
I got the message loud and clear, Dad. Reinforced over and over again until there’s no chance of me misunderstanding. I don’t matter to you at all.
