Page 7 of Desperate Pucker
He exhales sharply at my biting comment.
Financially, my dad gave me more than enough. He paid tens of thousands of dollars for me in child support every month. He paid for my private school tuition and my college tuition. Hepaid for all of my figure skating lessons and the expenses that came with it. He gifted me this apartment for my twenty-first birthday.
And now that my figure skating career is over, he secured this job that I don’t even deserve.
But he didn’t treat me like his other kids. Growing up, I saw him once or twice a year. He didn’t tuck me in at night. He didn’t drive me to school. He didn’t know my friend’s names or what my favorite cartoon was or that I had a pet bunny named Oreo or that I’m allergic to mint. He didn’t come to any of my school events or figure skating competitions. Except for the Winter Olympics, when I blew my shot at gold and had a breakdown for the entire world to see.
Tears burn my eyes at how he was there for every moment in Preston and Claire’s lives, but not mine.
Over the past few years, he’s tried to get closer to me. He’s invited me to holiday dinners and trips. I’ve gone a couple of times, but it’s always the same—awkward tension and thinly veiled insults from my older half-siblings about how I’m the outsider.
“Can we go to lunch or something after the holidays? Just the two of us?”
There’s a hint of pleading in his tone that makes my chest ache.
“Maybe. I’m going to be really busy with this new job.”
“I understand,” he says quietly. “So you’re seeing your mom for Christmas then?”
“Yeah. I’ll see her tonight and tomorrow morning.”
I think about the two of them as a couple, how short-lived their relationship was.
She was a young, naive woman charmed by a rich older man. She didn’t even know he was married because he lied to her and said he was separated. And then she got pregnant with me andthought he would commit to her. He didn’t. He wasn’t willing to give up his perfect life for his side piece.
And that’s my origin story. An unwanted, inconvenient distraction from the moment I was born. Just something to throw money at and pay attention to whenever it was convenient for him.
A tense silence follows. “Merry Christmas, Madeline,” he finally says in a sad voice.
“Merry Christmas.”
We hang up, and I blink away the tears pooling in my eyes. Bruce rubs his fluffy body against my ankles again. I scoop him up and kiss his fur while he purrs like a motor, then sit on the couch. The louder he purrs, the less sad I feel. Nothing comforts quite like cat cuddles.
My phone buzzes with a text from my mom.
Mom: Merry Christmas Eve, darlin’! Guess what I’m making for our appetizer extravaganza?
I smile at my phone.
Me: Cheese soufflé?
Mom: Oh god, no. I’d burn down the house trying to make that. We’re having…jalapeno poppers! And smoked salmon dip!
Me: Wow fancy!
Mom: I got two bottles of champagne too. Think that’ll be enough for our movie marathon? We’ve gotta make it through It’s A Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story, and Elf.
Me: I think that’ll be plenty. I’m a lightweight, remember?
Mom: :) Can’t wait to cuddle with Brucey boy on the couch and my favorite daughter.
Me: Your only daughter.
Mom: My FAVORITE daughter <3
Me: See you soon, Mom. Love you.
Mom: Love you, darlin
