Chapter 11 World’s Worst Waitress #2
He releases my hand, and I walk toward the doorway, where my father’s waiting.
There’s pain in his eyes, but it’s always there after he has a drunken episode like the other night.
Next, he’ll beg for forgiveness and promise to attend meetings, but this time, I won’t believe a word that comes from his lying mouth.
My father paces on the sidewalk in front of the bar, dragging his hands through his hair as I lean against the wall near the entrance. “You wanted to talk, so talk,” I tell him and pick at my nails because I can’t bring myself to even look at him.
I’ve had a lifetime of dealing with his drunkenness, so you’d think I’d be better at handling the aftermath by now.
I’ve always forgiven him in the past. I never forgot, but I found a way to move on, especially after I found out I was pregnant.
He made so many promises, and stupid me thought he’d clean up his life for his granddaughter, but I should’ve known better.
He comes to a stop and faces me, but he doesn’t bring his eyes to mine. “I’m sorry, Delilah,” he says and runs his fingers through his perfectly combed hair. “I was having a bad night.”
“You have a lot of those.” My voice is even, which is surprising because my insides are burning with rage.
The hurt in his eyes would’ve probably affected me a week ago, but standing here now, I feel nothing.
“I want you to come home,” he pleads.
“No,” I say firmly.
He looks up at the building and makes a face of disgust. I know what he’s thinking. He’s always looked down at people who didn’t fit his perfect, wealthy mold. “You don’t belong in a place like this.” He waves his hand toward the bar.
I push off the wall, walking toward him quickly, and I stick my finger right in the middle of his chest. “The thing I didn’t deserve was being tossed out on the street with my daughter, your granddaughter, without a penny to my name.
What I didn’t deserve was a narcissistic father who was more worried about getting his next drink than his own family.
” I poke him a little harder this time because it feels good, and my anger’s rolling harder and deeper than it ever has before.
“What I didn’t deserve was putting up with an asshole like you for the last ten years. I never walked out on you, Dad.”
“I know.”
“Mom left because she couldn’t deal with your drinking, but I stayed.” My voice grows louder because my anger is at a boiling point, and I’m close to blowing.
“She left you, too,” he says, reminding me of the fact that my mother couldn’t even be bothered with me, choosing the hot pool boy over both of us.
“Shut up!” I push him backward using my finger, and he doesn’t fight back. “I will not go back home with you because it has never been anything more than a shelter. There’s no love between us. You don’t give a single shit about Lulu or me. You made that perfectly clear when you left us here.”
“I need you,” he says, but I don’t believe a word of what he’s telling me.
“Hire a housekeeper. I’m sure someone will put up with your drunken tirades for enough money.
I’m done with you. I’ve spent enough of my life dealing with your verbal abuse, and I will not subject my daughter to it too.
” He steps backward, trying to get away from my finger, but I follow.
“If you really feel bad, put my money back in my account. It’s not yours to take.
It’s mine and Lulu’s. If you really care, you’ll make sure at least her future’s secure. ”
He stares at me, and there’s a flash of emotion on his face, but I’m not sure if it’s sadness or something else. My father’s never been one to share his feelings unless he’s filled with a bottle of vodka.
“It’s my account too,” he says like he’s justifying his theft of well over a million dollars that was left to me.
I pull my finger away from his chest and take a step backward, glaring at him. “Because I was under eighteen when Grandma died. It’s not yours.”
“Come home, and I’ll return the money. Or stay here, and see what it’s really like to survive on your own.”
“I would rather live on the streets than live under the same roof as you again. Unlike you, my daughter is my first priority.”
“Don’t be a fool, Delilah. These aren’t your people,” he scoffs, and his facial features tighten. “I brought you up better than this.” He waves his hand through the air again, motioning toward the bar.
“These people have been kinder to me in a few days than you have been in the last ten years. I’d rather Lulu be around people who shower her with love than throw money at her in hopes of winning her affection.”
“Already sleep with one of them?” He throws the familiar words in my face, but this time, he’s wrong.
“Just go, Dad. Don’t look for me. Forget I even exist.”
“You’ll always be a whore just like your mother. Your bastard child will always be a reminder. I was sorry for what happened, but I can see you have no forgiveness in your heart. You’re no better than her.”
His words are meant to hurt me, but they don’t mean anything anymore. I’m nothing like my mother, or my father either. I will always put Lulu first. I will never let her feel like less than the amazing little girl she is, and I will never allow her around anyone who’s willing to hurt her.
Whether they’re blood or not, no one will have that power over her or me again.
I glance to the side and see Lucio peeking around the corner of the building.
I shake my head, waving him off. I know he wants to rush to my side and physically remove my father, stopping the last words I hope I’ll ever speak to him.
I want this moment. I want the goodbye to be final and leave no room for him to come back.
“Goodbye, Dad,” I say and turn my back to him. “Don’t come back. We’re no longer your problem or your family.”
He curses at me as I walk back through the door to the bar. The few people inside scramble back to their seats, clearly having been listening to the exchange and sticking their nose in my business.
My face turns red, and I’m completely embarrassed, ready to sprint toward the bathroom to hide. But then the guys in the bar start clapping.
“You did good, kid,” one of the men says, punching me lightly in the shoulder as I walk by.
“You have some balls, little girl,” another one adds and dips his head. “Lemme buy you a drink.”
“No, no.” I half smile and laugh because they’re so happy and sweet, although a little strange. “Thanks.”
The sadness I would’ve felt in the past isn’t there anymore.
I’m not sorry for the things I said to my father or the fact that I cut him out of my life once and for all.
I was done being his carpet to step on when he felt his life wasn’t going the way he wanted.
He has shit to deal with, and I’m not going to be there to watch him crash and burn.