Page 73 of Wicked & Wildflower

Though the biggest hindrance to today’s success is calling now. I sigh, setting my knife on the counter and sliding my thumb across the screen to accept the call before wedging my phone between my shoulder and my ear. I don’t want anyone to hear that Jason’s calling me, because I haven’t decided if I want to let him talk to his daughter yet.

She and Darby are out buying snacks now, anyway, but should be home soon. Everett and Leo are setting up the bounce houses we plan on surprising Lou with in the backyard.

“Hi,” I huff into the phone as I answer.

“Hi, Dally.” His tone is warm as the familiar nickname rolls off his tongue. “I know I said I’d call later today after her party, but I was hoping I could speak with you first.”

Jason hasn’t spoken to his daughter in years, but he has been checking in via text message regularly since we moved. His sudden reappearance and concern with her wellbeing coinciding with a new alliance with my father isn’t lost on me.

Which is why I’ve been hesitant to tell Lou her father is suddenly calling, and why I haven’t let her speak to him. He began getting worked up over it around the holidays, so I bought myself time by agreeing to let him video call her on her birthday—after her party, so there is no chance of it being ruined.

“What’s going on?” I ask.

He’s quiet for a moment, as if contemplating what to say. “I just wanted a moment to tell you I’m sorry for how I reacted when I found out you left, for how I’ve been acting ever since.”

“You mean like how you demanded I move back to Kansas so you can have a presence in your daughter’s life when and if you feel like it?” I snort, smoothing out the edges of her cake. “Or do you mean when you supposedly went to my parents behind my back and asked them to support how terrible of a mother I am so you can try and take her away from me?”

“For all of it. It was wrong of me, and I’m sorry.”

That has me pausing, and I find myself at a loss of how to respond.

“Before you moved away, I was trying. It has taken me a lot longer to grow up than it should have, but I knew I needed to be better for her. For both of you.” His voice nearly breaks with some kind of emotion, but I can’t decipher what. “Then, when I found out you left without even telling me…” He sighs. “I snapped. I freaked out. I spoke with your dad, and he validated all my feelings. He was hurt by your leaving too and—”

“Do not talk to me about my father. Ever.” The knife falls from my hand and clatters against the counter. “You have no fucking clue what that man has put me through because you were not there. You do not get to seek out his opinion of me, my life, or my decisions. Do not speak about him to me.”

Rageful tears sting the corner of my eyes, and I blink them away, unwilling to let Jason know the depth of the scars they left on me.

“You’re right.” I hear shaking in my ear, like he’s nodding. “I’m sorry. Your parents were awful to you, to both of you.” I know he means my sister when he says that. “And I never should’ve listened to him. He fueled my fire and encouraged me to act out. Once I realized I’d been manipulated… I needed to think things through.”

“And?” I ask, taking a deep breath, bracing myself for whatever point he’s trying to make.

“And,” he drawls, “I want to be a part of her life, in whatever capacity she’s comfortable with, and I’m hoping you’ll let me do that. I’m not going to tell you to come back—at least, not right now—but I’d like to speak with her regularly. I’d like to have a visit too.”

“Ihave never been the one keeping you from her, Jason,” I snap. “I’ve always kept the door open.Youare the one who has abandoned her over and over again. Do not put this on me like I’m some kind of monster. Every trust issue I have was placed there by you. I won’t let you twist the narrative around.”

“That’s not what I’m saying, Dahlia,” he groans. “I take responsibility for everything I’ve done over the years. I wasn’t ready to be a father, and I needed time to grow up. I’m ready now, and I just want to do whatever I can. For both of you.”

I scoff, lacing my fingers together on the countertop. “That’s wonderful, Jason. I’m so glad you took the extra decade to prepare yourself for fatherhood. I, unfortunately, did not have that luxury. I had to step up from the jump. You remember that day, don’t you? Ten years ago? I was in the hospital, nineteen and terrified, birthingourchild, with only my eighteen-year-old sister there to hold my hand. You were…getting drunk in someone’s basement? Am I recalling that correctly?”

“I know, Dally. I know. I was such a fuck up, and I did so wrong by you.” His voice trembles, as if the memory pains him. “That’s why I’m playing by your rules here. Whatever I can do to try and make it right.”

I swallow hard, working to compose myself, to bite back the memories of fear and isolation that my daughter’s birthday dredges up. I try to remain present, remember that she’s here, that her happiness is worth more than any heartache I’ve encountered. But my birth experience was not a pleasant one. Iwas with my sister when I went into labor, and she was the only person who was there with me throughout the birth. She called Jason at some point, but he had no interest in any of it. Darby took me home to my parents’ house afterward, and while they acknowledged their grandchild, they refused to acknowledge me.

I was nothing but a nuisance. An embarrassment. Damaged potential.

I was deemed worthless to my child’s father and a disappointment to my own.

I’ve spent much of the last decade trying to convince myself that I can be anything else.

Willing away those memories and that emotion, I clear my throat. “So are you telling me you’re no longer threatening to file for joint custody and take her away?”

“I stand by the fact that she’s better off in Kansas. I believe it’s a better place for a child to grow up.” I hear him gulp. “But for now, I just want to get to know her. Maybe you could bring her out for a weeken—”

“I am not taking her back to Kansas.Never.”

“I’m not telling you to fucking stay, Dahlia,” he snaps. “If you’d let me finish a goddamn sentence, I was going to suggest bringing her out for a weekend so I can spend some time with her. It’s the least you could do.”

“Theleast I could do?” I seethe.

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