Page 42 of This for That (The Edge of Retaliation 1)
So the best thing to do is not expect it.
“Dad,” I say, my voice low and hesitant.
“Come here. Let me look at you.” He steps out into the light of his front porch and takes my shoulders in his hands. I flinch. His eyes meet mine, and he knows that I don’t want him touching me. He knows, deep down, that I hate him so much I want to scream and tear his eyes out. Yet I love him so much that his betrayal kills me. It’s a horrible feeling to have. To love and hate someone so incredibly much.
Which side do you choose?
How do you even make a choice like that?
He takes me in, and in a low voice, he says, “You’ve grown up so much.”
Of course I have. When you go away for six years, you’re bound to change. I’m not a young girl anymore; I’m a young woman. A hardened young woman who has seen far too much.
“Yeah, that happens,” I mutter.
He lets me go and says, “How rude of me. Come inside. Deanne is dying to meet you.”
Deanne, the woman he left us for. Then he basically adopted her two daughters, Crystal and Shirley. The perfect daughters. Both of them left school with perfect grades and went to college. Both of them have incredible partners and are making their parents proud with every breath they take.
Then there’s me.
The daughter who killed someone.
The daughter who went to prison.
Yeah, that’s me. The sunshine of people’s lives.
As I walk into my father’s huge house, I look around, and the urge to shake my head is massive. He provided my mother with things too, of course. We had the best of everything. This, though? This goes above and beyond what we got. There are chandeliers hanging from the damned rooftops, for crying out loud. Who actually needs that crap?
The house is twice the size of the one I grew up in. Hell, those girls probably have bedrooms bigger than my house.
It’s insane.
“Deanne?” my father calls as we round a corner into the biggest country kitchen I’ve ever seen. There’s white wood, cupboards for miles, and bench space big enough you could dance on it and not knock anything off.
“In here!” Out comes the lady herself. Deanne.
I’ve seen pictures, of course. My father used to try and get me to meet her, but I wasn’t interested. Why the hell would I be? She’s a damned queen, and she took everything I had left.
Okay, slightly unfair, because he did it too, but still.
Long blond hair falls upon Deanne’s dainty shoulders. Her eyes are big, and round, and perfectly blue. She looks like a china doll. Her skin is so perfect and so wrinkle free it makes me wonder what kind of injections she’s into. Either that, or the woman has some pretty incredible genes. She’s wearing a sunflower-colored dress, with a blue checked apron wrapped around her tiny little waist. Can anyone say perfect house wife?
I can.
Perfect housewife.
“Oh, hello! Welcome! I’m Deanne!” she says, rushing over and extending her perfectly manicured hand. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
No, it’s not. We both know it’s not.
She doesn’t want me in her house. She’s putting on a show for my father, but I can see the way she’s studying me, taking me in, scrutinizing me. She’s not impressed with me. Oh, no. Not at all. In fact, I’m sure if she had her way, she wouldn’t have me in this house at all.
“You, too,” I say to her, taking her hand. I can see the way her eyes twitch just a little when my hand curls around hers.
“The girls will be here momentarily. I’m going to go and get freshened up. You can catch up with your father.”
I watch her go, and then turn to Dad. “Nice place.”
He looks around. “Yeah, it is. Sit down. Can I get you a drink?”
I nod, and he brings me back a soda. God forbid I should drink alcohol; maybe I’d do something stupid like steal a car and kill someone.
It’s safe to say my parents were shocked when they found out I was completely sober that night; they even asked if I had drugs in my system. They couldn’t process how or why I’d steal their car and go for a joy ride if I was completely sober.
“How have things been? Have you caught up with Max?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen him once. I’m not in a rush to see him again.”
My dad frowns. “Your brother was worried about you. I’m sure he’d love to see you again.”
“My brother abandoned me, just like everyone else in my family. I owe nobody a single thing.”
He exhales. “Look, I know I didn’t come and visit you like I should have, Callie. I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean it to hurt you. Things out here, they were crazy, and I moved away. It wasn’t intentional.”
