Page 28 of Wrecked for the Holidays

“Of course, take your time. I’ll check back in a few minutes.”

Papa waited until the server was out of earshot before turning to me. His eyes bore into me, but neither of us spoke. What was there to say? I already knew I was being ridiculous, and he did too.

“What was that about?”

“He was too friendly.”

“Can you explain what you mean by that?” Papa’s voice was kind but firm. There wouldn’t be any weaseling out of the conversation, but there was no reasonmy humiliation couldn’t be delayed.

“He was smiling and laughing and being nice.”

“Yes, that’s what people who work in the service industry do.” Papa’s voice was still stern, but he seemed to know something he wasn’t ready to share with me. And that made me grumpier.

Mostly, I was mad at myself for ruining such a wonderful day with my pouting. I couldn’t even tell him what I was pouting about because I already knew the server was doing his job, and I was being a jerk. I didn’t understand why I was being one, so I couldn’t explain it, which made me grumpiest of all.

“I’m not hungry. Could we go?” Naturally, my stomach decided that was the moment to make its objection known.

“Unfortunately, I am hungry. And that rumble in your tummy tells me you’re doing a little fibbing.” I jerked my chin up without giving him a response. “That’s all right, love, there’s no need to answer. However, what’s not going to be allowed is for you to take out your frustration on the person trying to do their job.” His words sent a wave of shame crashing over me. “I’ll order for you since you’re having trouble today. We’ll get dessert to-go because I’m not leaving without their snickerdoodle cake, and then we can head home.”

“That sounds like a good plan, Papa.” I gave him a sheepish look that he returned with a knowing expression. Papa quickly looked at the menu before he snapped it closed and laid it on the table. The server must have kept a close eye on us because he came over immediately.

“Have you decided what you’d like?”

“We have. He’ll have the grilled brie with caramelized onions and fried pears on the side. I’ll have the grilled salmon and steamed vegetables with butter.”

“Fantastic. Anything else?”

“Can we order a slice of snickerdoodle cake and…” Papa turned to me before adding, “chocolate chip pie to go?” I noddedbecause it was pieand forced myself to smile at the server. He grinned back, so I felt even more embarrassed over my previous reaction.

“Good choice. It’s my absolute favorite, but warm it up before you eat it so the chocolate chips melt a little.” With a snap of his pen, he hurried off to turn in our order. Papa observed our interaction quietly, and I squirmed under his unwavering gaze.

“What?” I asked in a nasty tone. What the hell was wrong with me? Even I couldn’t understand my determination to ruin what had been, until now, a dayI’d dreamed about.

“It’s nothing to talk about here.”

The server quickly refreshed our drinks and slipped away. The tension was one-sided at our table. At least outwardly, Papa sat serene and calm, while my mind felt like a battered boat hitting the docks in a storm that no one but me could see. Since no one else observed it, my explanation would seem inadequate.

That was the crux of it. I felt inadequate. As best I could tell, Papa wasn’t interested in my insights into bioinformatics and computational biology so he must have other reasons for keeping me around. But did he, or had I barged in and made myself at home in his life? After being so nice to me at the stores, I repaid him by being a jerk to someone doing their job. The keeping part was likely up for debate.

Our food arrived, and it was delicious. Papa chatted about everyday things, but none required much participation from me. He told me about his twin, Cap, and growing up on Almstead Island in the middle of the Sound. Even though I’d lived in Mercer City my entire life, I’d never taken the ferry across to visit any of the islands. He made it sound mostly idyllic with his large gang of cousins he mostly liked. I couldn’t live up to my end of the conversation. My responses became more clipped as we got through the meal. When the server brought the bill and our desserts, Papa dropped some cash on the table before taking my hand and guiding me out of the restaurant. He was a man on a mission. I suspected that mission was to toss me out on my ass.

Our trip home was quick and quiet. I mostly stared out the window at the rain-soaked landscape that whizzed by. Papa’s conversation had tapered off, and now he concentrated on navigating the ever-present traffic on I-5. The quiet gave me time to contemplate how long it would take me to pack my bedroom because, after my ugly behavior at lunch, there was no way he’d want me to stay. It barely registered when he pulled into the driveway.

When Papa parked and clicked off the engine, he remained silent in the driver’s seat. After a beat, he finally said, “Let’s go inside. I’m telling you right now that I’m unhappy with your behavior. It was uncalled for, but I think you already know that.”

I nodded but stayed silent. What was there to say?Nothing.

Papa exited the vehicle and came around to help me. He grabbed the bags but allowed me to carry the smaller ones. Once inside the house, he placed his bags on the entry table and directed me to do the same. He rifled through them withouta word until he found my new dolls. If he intended to kick me out, I didn’t get the point of taking them out of the bags.

“All right, c’mon.” Without another word, Papa grabbed my hand and led me upstairs. He deposited me in his bedroom and warned me not to move off the bed. He returned a few minutes later with a pair of my pajamas. Silently, he stripped me out of my regular clothes and dressed me in the ones he’d brought from my room. A headache had bloomed on our way up the stairs, and it wasn’t improving. I bent my arms or legs when instructed, but I was thoroughly confused.

“Papa?”

“Get under the covers, love.”

Obediently, I climbed in and snuggled down. Papa put my babies in my arms and tucked the covers around us. He leaned down to kiss my forehead before he ran his fingers through my messy curls. “You’re tired and overwhelmed. We’ll talk later, but right now, you need a nap.”

I nodded and closed my eyes. Soothed by Papa’s scent and gentle fingers twirling my hair, the discussion I knew we needed became unimportant. That was my last thought before sleep claimed me.

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