Chapter Thirty
Blue
“Come in.”
My dad’s voice carries through the door when I knock, and so does the aroma of freshly-cooked bacon.
I let myself in and check the time as the storm door slams shut. Scar’s got about ten minutes before we’re officially behind schedule. I’d prefer to get to the guys before they start working.
“Ah, good morning,” Mike says, popping his head out of the kitchen to greet me.
“Morning.” I drop down onto the couch, watching the news on mute like he left it.
“Can I interest you in some breakfast?”
I instinctively check the time again. “Um… thanks but no. Scar and I have to get going soon.”
“Gotcha. Where are you girls headed this morning?”
The sound of his spatula doing some serious work in there fills the silence.
“We’re headed to the center to take care of a few things. Hannah’s not here?”
“Nope. She’s working this morning, but we have plans later on.”
I nod even though he can’t see me, and I glance around the place. It never ceases to amaze me how much the house has changed. It’s fresh, it’s clean. Nothing like it was growing up.
The stove clicks and Mike comes to join me in the living room, a plate and glass of juice in hand as he lowers onto the sofa.
“Sure you’re not hungry?”
I shake my head. “No, we’ll probably grab something from Dusty’s when we’re done, so…”
He shrugs in a suit yourself kind of way, then cuts into his pancakes.
“How are things going?” he asks, taking a bite right after.
If he followed Pandora, he wouldn’t be asking that. But with the TV set to the news, it’s only a matter of time before those outlets are reporting on West’s ordeal, too.
Still, I give myself a break and don’t steer the conversation that way. He’ll see the mugshot when he sees it.
“Things are… going,” is all I say back.
He nods and chews. “Sounds like life.”
It sure as hell does.
“How’s my son-in-law doing these days?”
I take a deep breath, thinking of my husband in two warring lights. In one visual, he’s a wet mess with bloody knuckles and rage-filled eyes. In the other, he’s standing beneath the shower, just like I left him this morning—naked, raw vulnerability in his eyes.
The rasp of his I love you echoes in my thoughts, then I think of his text, an invitation to dinner.
“He’s fine. Hanging out with his grandfather for the day.”
Mike nods. “He tell you we chatted a few weeks ago?”
My brow arches in confusion at first, but then I recall Pandora’s post from about that long ago, showing pics of West stopping here without context.
“He didn’t, but I guess I kind of knew.”
“It’s always good to see him.”
He’s being vague now, which makes me even more curious.
“Was it a nice talk, or…”
He swallows, then glances at me briefly before sipping from his cup. “It was. Mostly guy stuff, ya know?”
I want to pry and ask what that means, but I get the feeling he regrets bringing it up.
A long stint of awkward silence passes, and I check the time again. Scar’s got five minutes.
“Listen, I definitely don’t mean to overstep, but I’m worried about you two.”
He leaves it at that, but he’s said enough.
I now know West confided in him about us.
I’m not angry he felt comfortable talking to my dad, but I’m not sure I’m comfortable talking to my dad.
This is uncharted territory, because Mike was never sober long enough for me to come to him about real-life stuff.
Or much of anything really.
“He told me about the drinking,” he says. “I understand why that’s a trigger for you, and I know that’s completely my fault, but… it’d be wrong if I didn’t tell you what I see.”
I’m not sure why, but my eyes are starting to sting. The last couple days have been so emotional it shouldn’t surprise me everything’s coming to the surface again, but being this open around my dad isn’t something I’m used to.
“And what is it that you see exactly?” I ask quietly, blotting my eyes to keep from ruining my makeup.
“That despite his misstep, and despite what your mind is screaming at you these days… West isn’t me.”
My heart twists inside my chest as my biggest fear is exposed. I take a deep breath and force my gaze toward the window to hide the sudden swell of emotion from my father.
He sets his plate down on the coffee table, and my eyes fall closed when he scoots closer, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.
“Shit, I didn’t mean to make you cry, sweetheart.
I was actually trying to give you a bit of hope,” he says with a soft laugh, rubbing my arm.
“Your husband loves you. Deeply. And I’m sure he says it all the time, but sometimes when you’re in the middle of a storm, it’s hard to see more than a foot out in front of you.
So, I just thought it might help to tell you what I see. ”
He brings me into a hug, and I lean into him willingly. For this being so far outside our norm, I’m surprisingly comfortable in his arms.
“You kids are going to be just fine, okay?”
I nod against his shoulder, feeling tears stream down my cheeks. Scar walks in right in the middle of the moment, and she throws her hands up.
“Dad, what the hell did you do?”
A laugh slips out in the middle of my sobbing, and Mike smiles too.
“Believe it or not, nothing,” he says.
“He’s telling the truth,” I add as we separate. “We were just having a much needed talk.”
Scar grabs a box of tissue off the entertainment center and hands it to me. My makeup is shot to hell, so I don’t bother trying to keep it in place, wiping away what I can.
“Thanks.”
She nods. “Ready to go whenever you are.”
I stand and Mike does too, and when we embrace this time, I’m the one who initiates.
I’ve been hard on him over the years. Partly because I felt that’s what he deserved, and partly because I don’t always know how else to be with him.
Slowly, a little at a time, he’s been chipping away at my emotional walls, and with every swing of that hammer, I weaken just a little more, letting in more light.
“I love you,” I say softly, squeezing him tighter.
“Sweetheart, there aren’t even words for how much I love you girls,” he says, then sighs when adding, “Hunter too. Even though he’s the most stubborn bastard I’ve ever met other than myself.”
Laughing, I let go, and Mike swipes my last tear with his thumb. “I’m here whenever you need me. For you, for West. Anytime.”
“I know. Thank you for being there when he needed you,” I add, because that truly is important to me.
He nods, then Scar latches onto my arm.
“Be back in a few,” she calls out over her shoulder as we leave the house, and Mike locks up behind us. “You sure he didn’t do something? I’ve been wanting to kick his ass since he polished off my cereal last week.”
I laugh despite my emotions still running high. “Not today, but I’m starting to think a little separation might do you two some good.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re preaching to the choir, but let’s deal with your shit before we worry about mine.”
She’s right. Dealing with the guys at the center is going to be another emotional blow, but it must be done. Seth’s gone, and we have to figure out how to press forward without him.
We drive with the radio on to fill the silence. The center’s only a few blocks away, so my face is still red and puffy from crying when we pull up. I lower the visor mirror to try to touch up my eyeliner, but when Scar grips my arm, I follow her gaze through the windshield.
“No way he had the balls to come back here.”
Her words echo inside my head as we stare at the front entrance of the center, watching Seth ease down the walkway with a bag slung over his shoulder.
Scar’s out of the truck before I can stop her, and I’ve never been happier to have security.
God only knows what help this girl will need if she attacks him.
“Scar…”
She’s storming towards Seth, and all I can think about is how West went on the defensive just like this and it landed him in jail for the night.
“Seriously?” she shoots out, standing toe-to-toe with Seth.
Up close, I get a good look at him, and there’s no question about who won the fight. West returned with banged up knuckles, but nearly every inch of Seth’s face is bruised, and the cuts to the side of his lip and eye should’ve probably been stitched.
His hands fly up when Scar steps closer, and he backs down. “I don’t want trouble. I just came to get my things.”
“One of the guys could’ve brought you your shit,” Scar calls out. “No way you brought your ass here after what you did.”
I’m regretting calling to give her the details last night, but I was frantic, battling my thoughts as I waited to hear back from Ricky about West. My sister is sweet and sensible… until she’s not. And nothing takes her there faster than messing with someone she loves.
“You’re right, but I didn’t want to trouble anyone. Plus, I didn’t expect you to be here,” he adds, and this time his eyes land on mine.
I can’t even look at him after what he did. But what’s worse is what he said to West. He knew I had never confided a single thing in him about our marriage, and yet he lied to antagonize West into a fight. If nothing else, I thought I at least had his respect.
“You shouldn’t be here.” My words are clipped, and I want him out of my sight.
“Listen, I went home and had a few drinks after I screwed things up with you last night, and that clearly only made things worse,” he says. “I understand why West is pissed, and I know I overstepped.”
“You think, dipshit?”
“Scar.” I place a hand on her arm and pull her behind me to calm down.
Seth lowers his gaze, and the guilt in his eyes seems legit. But that doesn’t excuse the things he did, the things he said.
“Did you get everything?” I ask flatly, and Seth nods. “Good. Don’t ever step foot on this property again.”
With that, Scar and I step around him, headed inside, and I’m glad he’s out of sight.
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry,” he calls out behind me, but I don’t turn.
His sincerity is neither here nor there, because he’s out of my life, off this project, and he no longer has access to stir up drama in my relationship.
Whatever role Seth thought he played in my life… it’s over.
*
@QweenPandora:
Looks like sparks flew this afternoon when #NewGirl and Scarlett had a run-in with #TheBenchwarmer outside the youth center. There’s no way to know what was said, but things clearly got heated.
Anyone interested in hitting me up to fill in the blanks?
No?
It was worth the ask…
But OMG, #KingMidas! Did you take a frying pan to the guy’s face? If you did all that damage with your fists, I’d like to strongly urge you to consider anger management.
No, seriously.
Oh, and side note: We’ve got an update on the Lawsons. According to these pics, Reed was spotted heading into an attorney’s office this afternoon. Whether it’s about divorce or protecting himself after all his illegal activities were exposed, I think we all agree that lawyering up is a good idea.
Also, does anyone else think there’s a deeper reason he conveniently fell ill and couldn’t play in last week’s game?
Maybe… MAYBE… the Emperors are considering lightening their roster.
Guess we’ll have to wait and see.
Later, peeps :)
—P