Chapter 17 Madelina #2
Our banter is abruptly halted as the lunch rush begins, and we are run off our feet. Table Seven Guy, as we now call him, appears at the counter with a charming smile playing on his lips. Instead of approaching him, I nudge Billie forward, as I’m too mentally drained to partake in any flirtation.
When the lunch rush is finally over and our last customer leaves, Billie quickly tidies up the dining area while I retreat to the back. With no plans for the evening, I consider inviting Billie to unwind together until she says, “I have a date tonight.”
“Table Seven Guy?” I ask with a wide grin.
“Oh, how I wish. It’s actually a blind date,” Billie clarifies, biting her lip.
I tilt my head, then arch my brow. “Hold on a hot minute. Did Eva set this up?”
“Yeah, so what?” She shrugs, watching me closely. “Why, what’s wrong?”
“Geez, she’s really trying to offload this poor guy. She tried to set me up with him, too!”
“Really? Did you go on a date with him?”
“No, blind dates freak me out. What if he’s old or has one of those ridiculous haircuts? You know, business at the front, party at the back,” I say, my imagination running wild.
Billie scowls. “A mullet?”
“Yeah, a mullet.” I chuckle, only to flinch. “What if he’s a conjoined twin?”
“Okay, now you’re freaking me out. I don’t think Eva would set us up with conjoined twins,” she drags, but then she presses her lips flat. “What if she wanted us to date one twin each? You hear about these things, you know.”
“She’s pregnant,” I say. “God knows what she’s capable of now.”
Billie’s eyes widen as her mouth falls open. “Eva’s pregnant?”
I shake my head, panic overcoming me. “I thought she told you already!”
“This is amazing,” Billie squeals, jumping up and down. “She must be so excited. No, wait, she’s freaking out, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” I admit.
“Okay, don’t worry. I’ll wait until she tells me. Your secret is safe with me.”
We part ways and I lock up, making my way to the grocery store to gather a few essentials.
Lacking appetite, I toss a loaf of bread and some turkey into my basket, uninspired as I scour the shelves with boredom.
I throw in some Ben & Jerry’s and an apple to stay healthy, but I can’t be bothered with anything else.
Back in the apartment, I shower and slip into a tank top and shorts since the air-conditioning doesn’t seem to be working. With my hair tied back away from my face, I settle on the sofa with the same book I’ve been trying to start all week.
I sink into the cushions, cradling a mug of lavender tea that promises to lull me into sweet dreams. The book is starting to get angsty, and I find myself desperate to finish it tonight, come hell or high water.
The professor hands the student her paper back and tells her she got a D, and things are finally about to heat up…
Until a sharp knock on the door bursts the smutty bubble I’m happily floating in.
“What in the actual fuck?” I mutter as I approach the door. When I swing it open, I jerk my head back with an incredulous stare. “Dad?”
“Madelina, may I come in?” His voice is steady and, true to his usual demeanor, the formality in his tone doesn’t surprise me.
I nod, gesturing for him to step inside. My arms want to reach out to hug him, but for some reason, I hold back.
Cautiously, he enters and scans the room, an air of arrogance surrounding him as he makes his way into the living room.
I use the moment to observe him closely.
He appears older than when I last saw him at the wedding.
The few strands of gray that once sprinkled through his hair have grown more prominent.
His usual crisp business attire has been swapped for a relaxed linen shirt and chinos.
If it’s not his tailored suits, it’s usually his golf attire.
This outfit is entirely out of character.
Then it dawns on me, the only time a man changes his wardrobe is when a woman makes him. Is he seeing someone new? My parents’ divorce isn’t final yet, but something this important should have been mentioned to his now only child.
“Can I get you something to drink or eat?” I offer, trying to control my low-key spiral over my dad’s wardrobe.
He shakes his head with a concentrated stare. “I’m just here to see you.”
“It’s been a while, Dad. I missed you,” I confess, my voice softening.
Silence falls between us, which should come as no surprise since my father isn’t an affectionate man. He continues to observe me with a stern gaze, and if the past has taught me anything, a storm is brewing beneath the surface.
“I spoke to Georgina yesterday,” he says finally, his tone cold and uninviting. “The Whitney family deserves an apology, Madelina. I didn’t raise you to cause such destruction. I don’t understand what you were thinking.”
Anger surges through me as I stand here having to defend myself once again.
“Of course, you wouldn’t understand.” I throw my hands up, frustration spiraling out of control. “From the moment I walked out on Myles, you’ve made no effort to reach out to me. You think it was easy?” My sigh is sharp and exhausted. “You only care about yourself!”
“You don’t think it’s been hard on me, Madelina? Everyone knows my wife cheated on me!” His voice rises, thick with pinched anguish. “The son I thought was mine was fathered by another man. And now my daughter walks out on her wedding—for what? You weren’t in love enough?”
The word love comes out in a condescending tone. Again, no surprise since my father has no idea what it means to love someone with every fiber in your being.