Chapter 12 #3
“Darren, you can call me Darren.” Dad’s gaze crept to mine, and his brows tensed for a beat. “How’ve you been?” He clapped his hands in front of his stomach.
No hug for me? Fuck it. I stuffed my hands into my jeans pockets. “I’ve been good. Had a bit of an—”
“Oh, Wren is here.” Karen ambled toward us, over large travertine tiles, her blue dress pulling tightly across her pregnant belly and her brown hair pulled into a high ponytail.
Holy hell, when was she supposed to give birth? Today? My jaw dropped as I stared. As I came to my senses, I said, “Hi, Karen. Nice to see you again.”
She gave me a quick hug and a peck on the cheek. “You look well.” She twisted to Eli. “And you’re the boyfriend?”
“Yes, ma’am.” With a stuttered chuckle, Eli peeked at me.
She shook Eli’s hand. “The pleasure is mine, and you can call me Karen, not ma’am. My mother is a ma’am, not me.” She freed a soft laugh.
Fuck, this was already awkward. We should have been official boyfriends before we came here. I grasped Eli’s hand.
“Well, come on in.” Dad waved us through. “What can I get you to drink? Beer, wine or whiskey?”
I strolled beside Eli past a front room with tufted cream couches and dark wooden tables on one side and a massive dining table on the other with a gold and glass chandelier.
The place looked like they’d spent a fortune on furnishing it too.
It looked nothing like what Dad had when he lived by himself.
I bet the furniture is all Karen’s taste.
Eli leaned close and whispered in my ear, “This is a really nice place.”
“I know,” I muttered. And the jerk had barely paid my mom any child support. But he could afford this? My gut stiffened.
As the hallway opened into a high-end kitchen with rich wooden cabinets, matte black appliances with gold accents and marble countertops, I inspected the area.
The kitchen faced a large family room with thick wooden beams running across the ceiling.
I stopped at the end of the kitchen island.
This was crazy. Had Dad been hiding money from me and Mom all these years?
I took a hard swallow as my throat grew tight.
“Drink?” Dad strolled to a wet bar resting along the wall behind a brown leather couch and matching chairs.
“Uh…” I wasn’t driving. “Whiskey.” I’d need it for this conversation.
“Eli, how about you?” Dad poured whiskey into a lowball glass. “And do you want ice, Wren?”
“I’ll have a beer, please.” Eli faced me, his forehead wrinkling. “Are you okay? You look stunned.”
“I’m…I’m fine.” I’d scraped by going to community college for two years, and Dad had this kind of money? If Mom hadn’t set me up with a college fund when I was born, I wouldn’t even be at ASU right now.
In a whisper, Eli said, “You don’t look fine.”
“Wren, do you want ice?” Dad stood at the wet bar, his attention on me.
“Yes, I’ll take ice.” I glanced behind me at Karen, pulling plates from the cupboard and setting the smaller table between the kitchen and family room.
I wanted to ask Dad if he had sold the house in California.
If he had, I could have understood the origin of the money for this house.
If he hadn’t…heat trickled through my chest.
“Come on, Wren, let’s sit on the couch.” Eli guided me to it, dropped into the end and pulled me down beside him.
“Perfect, we can have our drinks and chat.” Dad brought Eli an open bottle of beer and handed me my whiskey. “Karen, come and join us.” Dad sat in a high-backed chair facing the couch.
“I’ll be there in a minute. I’m going to reheat some of this food.” She set an aluminum-foil pan into the top of the double oven.
“What are we having for dinner?” I swirled the whiskey in my glass. Now that I was here, I was uncertain what to say.
Dad sipped his whiskey. “Karen bought some Italian food from a place down the street. Some pasta and garlic bread, I think.”
“And a salad, a nice arugula salad with feta and cranberries.” Karen called from the kitchen.
With a nod, I drank my whiskey, the caramel burn gliding down my throat. “Sounds good.”
“Tell me why you quit gymnastics?” Dad’s lips pressed into a grim line. “I thought you liked it, and you were good at it.”
“Yeah, but let’s be real, Dad.” I clicked my tongue. “I was never going to the Olympics, and it was hard on my joints.” Slowly circling my injured ankle, I stopped as the slight pain radiated through it. “I kept spraining my ankle. In fact, I landed on it wrong in the last game and was sidelined.”
Eli grabbed my hand resting on my thigh. “It was hard to watch.” He winced at me. “But you’re better now, right?”
“Yeah, I’m good enough for the dancing part of the routines. I won’t be tumbling for a few weeks.” I studied my dad. Since when had he cared so much about gymnastics? I don’t remember his ever being at a meet.
“Oh.” Slowly twisting his glass in his hands, he inhaled deeply and then focused on Eli. “So, Eli, you’re a linebacker with ASU?”
“I am.” He straightened his spine. “I also study psychology and volunteer at the student queer hotline.”
“Oh, do you intend to become a psychologist?” Dad sipped more of his drink.
“No, I’m heading into the draft this spring. I’m expecting to be picked in the second or third round.” He drank his beer.
“Oh.” Dad’s brows ticked up. “You must be an excellent linebacker then if you’re expecting an NFL contract.”
“He’s amazing, Dad, one of the best.” Tilting my head, I peered at Dad. Had I ever told him about Eli when I was in high school? “Eli went to high school with me. In fact, we dated then too.”
“You did?” Dad’s gaze shifted from me to Eli. “So, you’ve been together a long time.”
“No, we uh…” My heart pinched. I couldn’t tell Dad what had happened in high school. It didn’t matter now. “We, uh, broke up before college and met again this year when I started cheer.” I snuck a peek at Eli, staring at his beer.
“I see.” Exhaling a breath, Dad sank into his chair. “Wow, it seems I’ve missed a lot.”
Karen joined us carrying a water bottle and sat across from the couch in another chair. “It’s been a long time since we’ve seen you, Wren. You know, you should have visited more often.” She admired her manicured nails.
With a blink, I gaped at her. Was she serious? They never invited me. “Well, uh, I suppose if…” I should keep my mouth shut and not remind her that Dad rarely even called me. “Yes, you’re right.”
Eli squeezed my hand and drank his beer. “I could get you both seats to the next home game, and you can watch Wren do his thing on the sidelines?”
As Karen’s gaze met Eli’s, she said, “Oh, that would be nice, but I think we have a dinner function this weekend.”
“We do?” Dad’s brows crept up.
“Yes, honey.” With a faint smirk, she rose. “Why don’t we eat now? The food should be warm.”
“Sure.” I rose along with Eli. “Can I help you with anything?” That was odd. Something told me they didn’t actually have plans this weekend. Had she been the reason I never heard from my dad?
“No, I’ve got it.” She pulled the trays from the oven and brought them to the table, setting them on hot pads. She’d picked up what looked like chicken Alfredo and a rigatoni in a red meat sauce.
“Would you like something else to drink?” Dad strolled to the refrigerator. “I’ve got sodas.”
“I’ll take a beer.” I took a chair at the table and sniffed at the garlic floating in the air.
“I’ll just finish my beer, thanks, Darren.” Eli sat next to me, fixating on the food. “This looks delicious, Karen.”
“Thank you.” She sat at the head of the table, spooned salad onto her plate and passed the bowl to Eli.
“Here you go.” Dad handed me a beer, took the chair opposite Karen, and then opened a beer for himself.
This dinner was torture. What the hell else should we discuss? I scooped rigatoni onto my plate and picked a slice of garlic bread from a tray.
“What do you do, Karen?” Eli passed me the salad and then dove into the chicken Alfredo.
“Nothing right now. I’m too busy pulling the nursery together for little Stuart here.” She patted her protruding belly.
“Stuart? That’s what you’ve named the baby?” I didn’t think I knew anyone with that name. I dipped the garlic bread into the red sauce and ate it.
“Yes, we’re naming him after my father.” She ate a salad.
“And your parents live close?” I stuck my fork into my pasta. I knew nothing about her family.
“Yes, maybe five miles from here.” She ate a forkful of pasta. “They’re so excited about the new baby, aren’t they, honey?” She beamed at my father.
“Yes, dear.” Dad sipped his beer and then ate some food. “You know, Karen’s parents had investments in much of the land being developed here in North Scottsdale.”
So, she was from real estate tycoons or something? “Oh, no, I didn’t know that.” Should I mention Mom? “You know, Mom has a real estate brokerage in Medford. She’s done great with it.” I stuffed pasta into my mouth.
Karen flashed a glare at me, and then it faded. “Oh? I’m happy to hear she’s doing well.” She ate more salad. “What are you studying?”
She didn’t know? I’d told Dad, but maybe he didn’t talk to her about me. Tension slipped through my chest. “I’m studying marketing with an emphasis on digital marketing. You know, website design, search engine optimization, that sort of thing.” I ate more of my garlic bread.
“That’ll come in handy.” Dad nodded. “Who did ASU play last weekend?”
“Baylor. They were tough, and we lost.” Eli shook his head.
As the discussion focused on football, I ate in silence. I found myself baffled. This dinner only proved that I barely knew my father.
After we ate, Karen rose to clear the plates.
“Can Eli and I help with the dishes?” I didn’t want to inconvenience her more than we already had. Who knew when or if they’d invite us back, judging by the past. I rose from my chair, grabbing my plate.
“Oh no, have a nightcap with your father.” The edge of her lips crept up as she stacked plates. “There’s not much to do, anyway.”
“Come on.” Dad strolled into the family room. “I’ll pour some fresh whiskey. I think it’s cool enough to sit on the patio.”
“Sure.” A pleasant buzz filled my head. I’d had a whiskey and two beers at this point. Eli had stopped after one beer, since he was driving us home. Thank God for that.
After Dad poured us fresh drinks, we followed him through a set of sliding glass doors and onto an expanse of covered patio, running along the back of the house. It was large enough for a long iron table and couches with chairs. Lights twinkled in the distance, within the outline of mountains.
“Do you have mountain views here during the day?” Too bad we’d arrived too late to see it.
Or maybe I’d been too stunned and missed it.
I sank into a patio chair with thick cushions while Eli, drinking a bottled water, took the chair next to mine.
A round table with a firepit inside it rested between us and the couch, where Dad sat.
“We do. It’s a pleasant spot.” Dad laid his arm across the back cushion and loosely crossed his legs.
Wait, Karen’s parents were real estate developers. “Did you pick this place up cheap through Karen’s family?” I sipped my drink.
“We did.” He gave the slightest of flinches and looked away.
“So, did you sell the California house?” My eyes widened. Holy fuck, I asked out loud. The drinks were getting to me.
Dad narrowed his eyes. “It’s none of your business, but no. We did not.”
How the fuck was it none of my business? “But…I’m your son. Why would it be a secret?” My pulse shot up. Wait…wasn’t there a trust from my grandparents? Come to think of it, Mom had me sign some legal papers when I’d turned eighteen. I’d never read it or asked about any of it.
“It’s not a secret.” He scoffed and set his lifted foot down. “We’re renting it.”
How much fucking money did he have? I’d need to speak with Mom about this. I knew he made okay money, but I thought he was only contracting his services as a software engineer and not even working full time. His entire life was a mystery. I eyed Dad. What was he hiding?
Leaning over, Eli touched my arm. “Hey, Wren. It’s getting late, and we have—”
“I know, practice and classes in the morning.” I took a big sip of my whiskey and hissed.
“So, if you’re renting it, you must be getting top dollar for it to afford this place.
” The fucker hadn’t taken out a loan on the Cali house, had he?
It had been paid for when he inherited it.
But the house hadn’t been in great shape when I’d visited him four years ago. “Did you fix it up first?”
“I think that’s enough questions about my finances.” Dad swirled his drink before taking a swig. “How about we focus on your grades? How are they?”
I lifted my brows. “Great.” Why the hell did he care about them now? “My GPA is three point two. Is that good enough for you?” I drank more whiskey as heat engulfed my chest. This was getting intense, but I couldn’t help myself.