Chapter 27 #3
“Just try,” I urge, rubbing his hand.
“Uncle Leo left me an inheritance.” The words slam me in the gut.
Holy shit, if I wasn’t gripping the sofa, I might fall over.
“A trust I’ve had for a while, meant for the two of us with strict rules.
But I was proud and angry. I couldn’t give up my demons, girl, you know how I am. ” He pinches his nose.
I shake my head softly, waiting for more.
“The old man kept me on an IV money drip for years. Just a monthly stipend, enough to cover the essentials. Never enough to spend on the shit I wanted—casinos, poker tournaments, speculation, the usual. He had more sense than I gave him credit for, and it pissed me off.”
Holden meets my eyes from across the room, like he knows I need something to hold on to. His earthy gaze grounds me.
And the words keep coming, like my father’s purging a disease, gut rot in his soul.
“I figured, in my own screwed-up mind, what’s the harm in keeping your portion for myself? It was supposed to start coming your way when you were twenty years old. I figured I’d win you more. Invest it, do this for the both of us.”
“Dad, I don’t understand,” I say.
“Of course you don’t.” He dashes at his wet eyes. “You thought that little adventure Uncle Leo left you—that stupid fucking wild goose chase—was your inheritance, but it was only supposed to be a bonus. One last grand goodbye. Not something you needed to chase down for money, for your dreams.”
My fingers go cold. “So you’re saying he left me something else?”
“More. A hell of a lot more, Cleo. More than I could ever get to through his lawyers, and that’s a good thing.” He digs in his pants pocket with shaking hands and brings out a crumpled envelope, handing it to me.
It’s unsealed. I pull out a couple pages and my eyes flick through financial details.
“After what went down, I’m done playing games with his ghost, with myself. I’m going to transfer the deposits to your bank account immediately and let the administrator know. All of it, going forward, even the stipend I’ve been pissing away for years.”
Oh my God.
My jaw hangs open.
I sink down beside him, still clutching the envelope so tight the paper creases.
Before, I thought he was hungover, his face puffy and eyes bloodshot, but now I notice I can’t smell any booze wafting off him.
Instead, he looks…
He looks tired.
Like he suddenly feels the weight of the world and doesn’t know what to do with it. His shoulders are slumped and there’s ten tons of crushing lead in his eyes.
He looks kind of sick, too.
This is the first time he’s actually done something truly selfless. For me. Not because there’s something to gain, but because he’s trying to do right.
My eyes sting.
And I’m suddenly very afraid he’s sprouted a conscience and he might stop drinking cold turkey.
“Dad, I appreciate it. More than you know. But we don’t have to do this now. You look sick.”
“No… it couldn’t wait. I realized what I had to do when I saw the news,” he says. “You, getting into trouble over some damn artifact when you could’ve sat on it for years. You shouldn’t have been so worried about money. I did this. I put you in that position.”
Not quite true, but I still can’t speak.
This isn’t the time or place to tell him any money I received was always secondary to keeping the Hera Egg safe and finding it a home. A mission we flunked.
“I know I haven’t been the best father. It’s been—it’s been hard, Cleo, and I never rose to the challenge the way you needed. I’m sorry, but—”
Holy shit, no.
I throw myself at him, tossing the envelope aside. My arms fold around his leathery neck and I hold on tight.
He smells like stale smoke and sweat and my childhood. Slightly citrusy soap and aftershave. Dad smells I’ve breathed with so much hope my entire life, but never found it until now.
“I love you,” I whisper, my voice choked. “Even when you make mistakes. Everyone does. PopPop was wise—and you don’t give yourself enough credit.”
“We’ll see.” He pats my back awkwardly, unsure what to do with a daughter who hugs him and means it.
Things have been so tense between us for so long. At some point, I forgot how it felt to love without any baggage.
I lean back, wiping my eyes.
Dad does the same and glances over my shoulder.
Holden stands by the table now, pretending not to listen in, even though he must be glued to every word.
“Take good care of my daughter,” Dad warns as he sits up again. “After all this ugly business, I’m not about to let anyone hurt her or fuck with her artistic dreams ever again.”
I bury my head in my hands.
“Dad, calm down. It isn’t like that…”
But Holden just moves to sit by my side, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.
“I’ll guard her with my life, Gordon,” he rumbles in his stormcloud voice. I’m so shocked that we’re even going public in front of my father that I don’t react. “Whatever happens, she can count on me.”
“Can we find you a doctor?” I whisper, worn and worried. “You shouldn’t travel like this, Dad. Please get yourself checked out.”
I think he’s about to walk out like usual, stubborn to the end.
But for once, he just hangs his head. “Yeah, girl, we’ll see.”
We’ll see.
Two hopeful words that remind me life can change for the better.
Two words that say this bright, beautiful road ahead with Holden might just be the beginning.