“Got
it.”
Lash came over to me, tilting my head up. He
gave me a last kiss, then a hug, caressing my cheek gently.
“Going to call me an angel?” I said, figuring
he wouldn’t get the old reference from a Juice Newton song more
than thirty years old.
To my surprise, he smiled knowingly, baring
one fang. “A morning angel,” Lash hissed with affection, then
kissed me one more time. “I most likely won’t see you again, though
I hope to someday,” he said gently. “Take care of yourself. I hope
it works out with Terian and you.”
Then he was gone, the door closing behind
him.
Chapter
Eleven
I called Danial’s business again that night,
and left a message for Terian with a woman who said her name was
Monica. Although I waited a week, Terian did not call back.
In anger, I went again to the bar where I’d
met Lash all those weeks, hoping for another night with him to ease
my despair. Though I stayed until closing, he never showed.
I was debating calling Terian again when I
got a Fed Ex delivery. It was a first class plane ticket from my
father, which could only mean one thing. But instead of the
jubilant note I expected, I found this:
Sunny,
Please come to me when you get this.
Sheryl’s dead, she died last week. I need you, Baby
Girl.
Love, Dad
My father had never said he needed me in his
life before. Weird and also very strange. I told my boss I’d be back in a few days, and got a cab to the
airport.
* * * *
I rented a car at the airport, and drove to
the house that had been Sheryl’s. I wasn’t surprised to see a “For
Sale” sign on the front lawn.
I next drove to the lot where the old trailer
we’d lived in used to be. Sure enough, there was my father. He was
sitting in a lawn chair in a bathrobe, drinking a Bud Light. There
were several empty cans at his feet.
“Baby Girl,” he said happily when he saw me.
“You came!”
“So where’s all the cash, Dad?” I said
mockingly. The trailer behind him was a newer one, but it was still
a wreck, and clearly at least twenty years old.
“She left it to her two daughters down
south,” he said angrily. “She left me a measly ten grand! Ten
grand, for a year and a half of my life! Bitch!” His expression
cleared. “But at least she left me the house. I’ll sell it soon. It
should bring a half mil easy, or so the realtor tells me.”
“Then why do you need me?” I said angrily.
“Your dreams have come true. You don’t need me.”
“Because I’m dying,” he said sadly.
I gaped at him in shock. “Dying?”
“She didn’t have cancer,” he said bitterly.
“She had AIDS; got it from her philandering husband. She told me
she bruised easily, that she had diabetes, that’s why all the drugs
and the marks on her skin.”
I grabbed onto a nearby tree branch for
support. This is poetic justice, sure, but
God...
“Anyway, the doctors say I could live a
while, but I’ll need help—”
“So you thought of me?” I interrupted
flatly.
“Sure,” my father said. “You’re my daughter.
I need you.”
“So what?” I said nastily.
My father gaped at me for a few moments, then
became enraged. “You know all the nights I had to deal with your
kid shit? So many nights I wanted to be out, and I had to be home,
because your mom was in one of her depressions, and couldn’t get
past the bottle to give you yours—”
“I don’t remember that!” I yelled back at
him. “I remember you fucking Natalie! I remember her crying, and
you leaving and Mom dying—”
“So what if I had sex with her? She wasn’t
any blood relation to me! It’s not like I had sex with you!”
With a disgusted shudder that ran down my
spine like icy water, I backed away from him. “You abused us all.
We turned out the way we did because of you.”
My father held out a hand. “Now calm down,
honey. I’m telling you, your mom was cold, and she never wanted me,
not after you were born. And Natalie, she’d been having sex
it.”
Lash came over to me, tilting my head up. He
gave me a last kiss, then a hug, caressing my cheek gently.
“Going to call me an angel?” I said, figuring
he wouldn’t get the old reference from a Juice Newton song more
than thirty years old.
To my surprise, he smiled knowingly, baring
one fang. “A morning angel,” Lash hissed with affection, then
kissed me one more time. “I most likely won’t see you again, though
I hope to someday,” he said gently. “Take care of yourself. I hope
it works out with Terian and you.”
Then he was gone, the door closing behind
him.
Chapter
Eleven
I called Danial’s business again that night,
and left a message for Terian with a woman who said her name was
Monica. Although I waited a week, Terian did not call back.
In anger, I went again to the bar where I’d
met Lash all those weeks, hoping for another night with him to ease
my despair. Though I stayed until closing, he never showed.
I was debating calling Terian again when I
got a Fed Ex delivery. It was a first class plane ticket from my
father, which could only mean one thing. But instead of the
jubilant note I expected, I found this:
Sunny,
Please come to me when you get this.
Sheryl’s dead, she died last week. I need you, Baby
Girl.
Love, Dad
My father had never said he needed me in his
life before. Weird and also very strange. I told my boss I’d be back in a few days, and got a cab to the
airport.
* * * *
I rented a car at the airport, and drove to
the house that had been Sheryl’s. I wasn’t surprised to see a “For
Sale” sign on the front lawn.
I next drove to the lot where the old trailer
we’d lived in used to be. Sure enough, there was my father. He was
sitting in a lawn chair in a bathrobe, drinking a Bud Light. There
were several empty cans at his feet.
“Baby Girl,” he said happily when he saw me.
“You came!”
“So where’s all the cash, Dad?” I said
mockingly. The trailer behind him was a newer one, but it was still
a wreck, and clearly at least twenty years old.
“She left it to her two daughters down
south,” he said angrily. “She left me a measly ten grand! Ten
grand, for a year and a half of my life! Bitch!” His expression
cleared. “But at least she left me the house. I’ll sell it soon. It
should bring a half mil easy, or so the realtor tells me.”
“Then why do you need me?” I said angrily.
“Your dreams have come true. You don’t need me.”
“Because I’m dying,” he said sadly.
I gaped at him in shock. “Dying?”
“She didn’t have cancer,” he said bitterly.
“She had AIDS; got it from her philandering husband. She told me
she bruised easily, that she had diabetes, that’s why all the drugs
and the marks on her skin.”
I grabbed onto a nearby tree branch for
support. This is poetic justice, sure, but
God...
“Anyway, the doctors say I could live a
while, but I’ll need help—”
“So you thought of me?” I interrupted
flatly.
“Sure,” my father said. “You’re my daughter.
I need you.”
“So what?” I said nastily.
My father gaped at me for a few moments, then
became enraged. “You know all the nights I had to deal with your
kid shit? So many nights I wanted to be out, and I had to be home,
because your mom was in one of her depressions, and couldn’t get
past the bottle to give you yours—”
“I don’t remember that!” I yelled back at
him. “I remember you fucking Natalie! I remember her crying, and
you leaving and Mom dying—”
“So what if I had sex with her? She wasn’t
any blood relation to me! It’s not like I had sex with you!”
With a disgusted shudder that ran down my
spine like icy water, I backed away from him. “You abused us all.
We turned out the way we did because of you.”
My father held out a hand. “Now calm down,
honey. I’m telling you, your mom was cold, and she never wanted me,
not after you were born. And Natalie, she’d been having sex
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