2. Zela
Wednesday
Pulling up to the house feels like something out of a movie or a fucking book.
It looks like a whole-ass fairy-tale castle as Dad drives us down the long, winding driveway.
The grass is kept, every blade green and lush, unlike our old yard, which was more than half dead; hell, the greenery was mainly weeds.
We might have moved up since the shitty apartment complex we started in, but this isn’t just a few steps up the ladder…
This is a whole other world. One I never imagined, let alone wanted.
“Give it a shot, Munchkin,” Dad says with a chuckle, pulling my attention from the immaculate grounds.
“I didn’t say anything, Dad,” I grumble, crossing my arms and sinking further down in my seat. I’d outgrown that nickname a long time ago, but he still calls me it every once in a while. I didn’t have the heart to tell him to stop, though.
It's no use denying it, though, so I don’t even try. Dad knows me too well, so quiet or not, he knows I’m not excited about any of this. I can’t help it if my face shows exactly how I’m feeling.
I have terrible resting bitch face. It’s a defense mechanism, one that’s done me well for the last few years.
Besides, I don't feel like I’m being unreasonable here. Most people wouldn’t want to move into a house with a stranger. The money is cool, sure, but we were doing just fine. Not to mention, moving more than an hour away meant I’d have to take my next semester of classes at another campus.
The only saving grace is that The Pit is still only an hour away on the city bus.
Not that I’d tell Dad that; he would lose his mind if he found out I was there on Saturday nights and not studying in the library like he thinks I am.
I study there a lot, just not on Saturdays, but he assumed that’s where I go, and who am I to tell him he’s wrong?
“You didn’t have to say anything. Your face always does it for you.”
His laugh bounces around the car, and I can’t fight the smile that pulls at my lips. I might hate almost everything about this damn move, but Dad's happiness quickly reminds me why I’d agreed.
I have a smart-ass remark ready, just like I always do, but before I can get the words out, we reach the end of the drive, and I get my first real look at our new… mansion. It’s a fucking mansion.
Every bush is shaped, and in the center of the circle drive is a horse…a fucking bush horse.
The house is white, with black accents that give it a modern look, despite its high-class appearance. Even before we reach the house, I see sparkling chandeliers through more than one window.
What kind of house needs a chandelier? Let alone multiple?
As if the house wasn’t already a monstrosity, there are three garage doors on the far left side of the house.
We’ve never had a garage, and they have one big enough that it needs three doors.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Dad asks as he pulls up in the circular drive to the front door, and I can’t do anything but nod.
“Beautiful” doesn’t even begin to cover it, but what the fuck, man?
I’m going to get lost in there. It might be bigger than the college I’d been taking classes at, and it took me almost a whole semester to figure that place out.
“Fuck, Dad, I’m never going to be able to find my way out if I go in there.” He purses his lips at my cursing but doesn’t comment on it. I know Dad hates it when I swear, and I try not to around him, but my brain isn’t really functioning fully right now.
“You’ll be fine,” he says, throwing the car in park. “Worst-case scenario, I’ll draw you a map.” With a wink, he pushes open his door and gets out. I have no choice but to follow him or sit alone in the car all night, though the thought is tempting.
If he leaves me behind now, I’ll be screwed.
“Har, har, super funny. You should have been a comedian instead of a vet,” I shoot back as he rounds the car and heads toward the front door.
“What about our stuff?”
“Don’t worry, Arthur will get everything for us,” he tells me as I jog to catch up with him.
Who the fuck is Arthur?
“Arthur is the butler.” Dad glances back at me, and I can only imagine what my face must look like. “Don’t make it a bigger deal than it is.” He waves it off before continuing inside.
I feel my eyes go wide, but I’m not sure what he expected.
She has a fucking butler! Who is this lady, a queen?
Dad walks in the door without so much as knocking.
I know they’ve been seeing each other for almost a year now, but I guess I hadn’t realized just how comfortable they were with each other.
It’s strange to think about, considering I’ve hardly seen them together.
Hell, I’ve hardly seen him with any women ever.
My eyes take a moment to adjust as we make it inside.
Everything is white and so fucking bright.
The floors sparkle, and looking up, I find a huge chandelier overhead.
Dad chuckles and shakes his head as he watches me take a step to the side so that I’m no longer right under it.
He can laugh all he wants. I’ve seen Final Destination.
“You’ll get used to it,” he says with a smile, but I can see the truth in his eyes. He’s not used to it either, not really. He’s just better at hiding it. I swallow back the snarky comment and give him a nod, reminding myself that this is important to him.
I don’t dislike Diane. From the few times I’ve met her, she’s been great, and she makes Dad happier than I’ve ever seen him.
If I have to buy a pair of sunglasses to wear in here and avoid large objects that could make me a pancake, I’ll manage.
There are worse ways to spend your life. Trust me, I know.
“Come on, Diane is probably out back by the pool.” He offers me his hand, and I quickly reach up to grab it. His smile widens before he turns and begins pulling me behind him toward the rear of the house.
My head is on a swivel as we go, trying to see everything. It’s impossible, but I try. I’d been joking earlier about getting lost, but now I find I’m grateful for Dad's guidance.
Everything is pristine, from the lounge chairs to the hall carpets. Art decorates the walls and shelves, and every surface has something, from books to a vase full of flowers that, from the smell, I imagine aren’t the same fake ones we had on our kitchen table for years.
It really is beautiful, but something about it doesn’t feel homey.
Growing up in that old apartment, we didn't have much, but what we had was well-loved.
The armchair Dad rocked me in forever had the imprint of him after years of time spent sitting there.
The carpet was worn down where we walked most often.
Even once we moved out, the new house had signs of us.
Stacks of clutter, like old mail on the table and Dad's coffee mug that forever ended up next to the pot.
The hole in the drywall in the living room from when I tripped, and my knee went through it.
Some might look down on those things, but they made the house ours; they showed the life inside those four walls.
This house might be huge and impressive to look at, but nothing about it suggests that anyone actually lives here.
It looks staged, like a house that someone might show when people are looking to buy.
The sound of running water pulls my attention as we near the back of the house. I almost trip over my feet when I see the floor-to-ceiling window that lines the entire back wall. I make it as far as two steps outside before my feet stop moving, and my jaw falls open at the sight before me.
The pool…
When Dad said she’d be by the pool, I pictured what I imagined most people would. A big-ass rectangle of water, one end deeper than the other. Maybe a diving board or a slide even, since she seems to have all the money?
What I didn’t expect was a fucking oasis.
The pool is still mostly a huge body of water, but instead of being surrounded by concrete like the one at my school, beautiful rock formations surround this one.
The rocks surround the pool on all sides, slowly rising on the back half until they are high enough for a waterfall to form with a slide carved into the rocks next to it.
Small bushes and flowers decorate the far side of the pool, creating a sense of privacy from the rest of the open yard. About halfway through the pool, a small bridge made of dark stone crosses through, making an arch to swim under.
It’s breathtaking.
And also occupied.
While I’d been distracted by the pool, Dad made his way to Diane, who I now see resting in a lounge chair off to the side in the sun. She has a drink in one hand, and her annoying ass little dog, Bella, has her very own lounge chair to her left, an umbrella between them offering some shade.
I swear that dog hates me, but she loves my dad, as she should.
Diane and my father met because of Diane’s love for Bella.
A little over a year ago, Dad had been working an overnight shift at the vet clinic near our house when Diane came busting in, freaking out that her dog was dying.
Diane should have never been on our side of town, never had been before, but that was the only vet open at two in the morning.
Diane was a mess, but thankfully, Dad was able to figure out what had happened and save Bella.
Apparently, on a late-night walk, Bella had run into a bed of flowers down near the tennis court.
Diane didn’t realize the beautiful foxglove flowers she had planted in the spring were incredibly toxic to dogs.
Bella’d started acting funny and was throwing up a few hours later, which sent Diane into a panic.
Her usual vet was not only closed but out on vacation, which is how she ended up on our side of town.
At the time, I couldn’t imagine going for a late-night walk with my tiny dog.
I didn’t realize just how different our worlds really were.
She probably didn’t even leave her yard.
I look around and find a path beyond the pool that does, in fact, lead down to a tennis court.
This is crazy.
“Zela, dear!” Diane calls as Dad helps her to her feet before she makes her way toward me.
Bella doesn’t move, but she growls from her little throne, and I roll my eyes.
I could kick that dog across the yard like a football if I wanted to.
Diane, on the other hand, is delighted to see me.
The smile on her face makes me smile back at her, despite how uncomfortable this whole experience might be.
Diane has been nothing but nice to me, and as much as my dad adores her, she looks at him like he hung the damn moon.
What kind of daughter would I be if I weren't happy for them? If I didn’t at least give this my best try.
Diane pulls me into a hug, and despite sitting out in the heat, she still smells like her perfume. I swear she’s almost too perfect. Pulling back, she puts a hand on my shoulder and spins me around to face the pool.
“I want you to meet my boys!” she says with a smile, damn near squealing with excitement. “Boys!”
What?!
Oh no, she can’t mean what I think she means… right?
I turn to look at my dad over Diane’s head, but he won’t meet my gaze, instead keeping his focus on the pool.
I knew Diane had kids. Dad had mentioned them a few times, but I never realized they were still living here!
I thought they were older than me, like grown and moved away, but now I’m thinking I might be wrong.
Hell, even if they are, why would they move away when their house probably has ninety-eight bedrooms?
Damn it, Dad!
I turn to the pool and have to actively work to keep my mouth closed as three very attractive, soaking wet, and half-naked ‘boys’ make their way out of the pool.