Page 5 of Daddies' Holiday Toy
“How much is he looking to pay?” I ask.
“I’m not sure. I can ask him the details and get back to you. How’s that sound?”
My teeth gnawed at my lip again.
The thing is, Icoulduse the extra cash.
Actually, I’m desperate for it no matter who’s wallet it comes out of.
Fuck knows my checking account is on practical life support at this point.
A few hours of working up at that cabin to clean it out shouldn’t be too bad, right?
Especially if it could mean paying down some of those bills cluttering my office.
Or my landlord…
I’ve been up to the cabin when I was little to keep my dad company on hunting trips.
Back then, I never found it strange how he would invite a few female friends up to keep us company, not once questioning his excuses about why my mom would have to stay back in town to work.
They always brought me candy and gifts to keep me distracted long enough not to notice them sneaking off to god knows where before returning half an hour later with flushed cheeks and messy hair.
It’s been no secret that my dad and I have had a rocky relationship for years.
Though, maybe “rocky” is putting it too kindly.
He left just as I hit my preteens, running off with some woman he met passing through town and never looked back, disappearing before I ever had the chance to say goodbye.
No note, no explanation, and definitely not enough maturity to break up with my mom the proper way without completely shattering her heart.
My dad had left me to pick up the pieces of my poor mother’s broken heart and bear the brunt of years of her trying to cope through it with drinking and late nights at the office.
It wasn’t until years later that I’d gotten the whole truth out of my mom about how he’d been planning to leave her for months and had drained their accounts dry the day he picked up and left.
I’d never quite forgiven him for that, even after the apology calls and holiday cards started rolling in over a year later.
He’d come and gone a few times throughout the years after I turned eighteen but could never quite manage to figure out how to stick around long enough to be held accountable for anything, let alone rebuild our relationship.
I’d long since given up on ever hoping he’d change—that would be a waste of both of our time.
The last time I’d seen him had been at my graduation and even then, it had been less of a reunion and more of ripping open old wounds and allowing years of resentment to come spilling out in front of all my classmates and professors.
Now the real question is this: did Iwantto involve myself with the man that’s brought me and my mother so much pain throughout my life?
Could the money be worth dredging up old wounds like that?
I’m not sure.
Then again, when it comes to my dad, I’m not sure of anything.
He’s too much of a wildcard to put any real trust in.
“Why don’t you think about it, okay?” my mom says, already reading through my silence.
I sigh. “Alright. I’ll let you know. Thanks for calling and checking on me.”
“Of course, sweetheart. You get home safe, okay?”
