Page 33 of Cheap Shot
“Hey, Daddy.”
Yes, I’m a twenty-year-old girl and still call my dad, Daddy. Not only am I the baby of the family and spoiled rotten, but calling him daddy gets me anything I want. I don’t make the rules, I just take advantage of them.
“Hey, pumpkin. What are you doing here?” Dad pushes back from his desk and strides toward me, wrapping me in a warm hug. “I thought we weren’t meeting until tonight for dinner.”
My body instantly relaxes into Dad’s arms. I bury my nose into his chest and inhale deeply. His comforting scent surrounds me, and I pull back slightly and smile. “We are, but I was in the area and wanted to stop by. It’s been forever since I’ve been able to watch you in action.”
Dad’s chocolate brown eyes shine with mirth as he smiles down at me. Coming to see Dad at the office was always my favorite thing when I was younger, so stopping by on a whim isn’t too out of character for me.
“Not much action going on here today, pumpkin. Just trying to get through all the rookies’ résumés and figure out where they might fit with the team.” Dad steps away from me and heads back around his desk, motioning for me to take a seat on the other side of his desk.
“Already? Aren’t you going to wait until training camp starts?”
“Every player will get a fair shot, but we only usually offer players we know will add something to the team.”
“Usually? Why do I feel like that was a loaded statement?”
Dad has never been someone who can hide his feelings. They’re usually written all over his face. He also doesn’t sugarcoat things. The fact that he’s even attempting to spin whatever he’s unhappy about tells me everything I need to know.
“No, nothing like that. There are just a few players joining the ranks that I haven’t vetted yet.” Dad runs his hand down his chin, tugging on his salt-and-pepper beard, his forehead wrinkling as he tries to find an answer to my question.
Dad has always prided himself on being hands-on with his team. He does his own scouting and personally reaches out to each player he brings on each season. The fact that there is someone coming to camp he didn’t have a choice in choosing is out of the ordinary.
“That’s not usual at all. At least for your teams, right?”
“Yes, and no,” he responds matter-of-factly, before quickly changing the subject. “But enough about work. How is the job searching going?”
Damn it. I was hoping to put this conversation off a little bit longer. Dad is under the impression that I am looking for a full-time position at one of the hospitals in the area since I’ve only been working part-time recently.
“Well. I actually managed to snag a position with a nice pay hike. No more hourly work for me. I just finished a meeting with human resources. I got my information packet and start date.” I fidget slightly in my seat, tucking my now-sweat-covered hands between my legs.
This isn’t technically a lie. I have a full-time position here with the team, and I’ll be on salary, as well. Telling Dad about my new job might be a lot easier than I expected.
“That’s amazing, baby girl. What hospital will you be working at?” He pauses, his eyes pulling down in concern.“You are going to remain here in town, right? You just moved back. You can’t leave again so soon.”
“I’ve been back here for almost a year, Daddy. I have no intention of going anywhere. Besides, Stacey would kill me if I left her hanging on the lease.”
“That’s my good girl.” He chuckles softly, his mouth pulling up in the corner. “So, where did you get a job? Is it at least close to here?”
“Oh, it’s close all right. Practically around the corner,” I respond noncommittally, trying to find the best way to break the news.
“That’s great. I didn’t know you were applying for a position at Oregon Health & Science University Hospital (OHSU). It's a teaching hospital and the best place to get your foot in the door to continue your education by joining the DPT program.”
“I told you I have no intention of getting my DPT, Daddy.” I sigh, already knowing where this conversation is headed. “No, I'm not working at OHSU.”
“That’s okay, pumpkin. You can always try again in a few years after you get some more time under your belt. You never want to become complacent.”
“Daddy, you don’t understand. I don’t plan on applying anywhere else. I’ve wanted to work here for years,” I say, looking everywhere but at him.
My eyes widen as I catch the slip. I saidhereinstead ofthere, but my dad is too oblivious to catch it. Dad leans back in his chair, crossing his arms under the Timberwolves logo sitting in the center of his chest. He stares at me for a few moments, his eyebrows pulled down in concern as he scans my face. I can already see the disappointment in his eyes, but he doesn’t say a word, just sits waiting for me to explain, but I don’t dare. Maybe if I wait long enough, he’ll let it go, and we can just head to lunch or something. It will be easier to tell him after I have some time to think about how exactly to break the news.
“Pumpkin, you aren’t making sense. Who are you going to be working for?”
I could keep up the charade, but what’s the point? Might as well rip off the Band-Aid. Squaring my shoulders, I turn toward Dad. “Here. I’m working here, for the Timberwolves, Daddy.”
Dad's eyes widen in surprise, but he doesn’t say a word. I wait because I know the lecture and guilt trip are coming. Dad has never wanted me to work for a team, claiming I deserve better, although I never agreed with him. If this were anything else, I probably would’ve kept it a secret or not even tried to apply for the position, but this is the job I’ve been working for since I picked my major. Is it too much to ask for my dad to be happy for me?
“Say something, Daddy,” I whine, leaning forward and grasping his hand in mine, giving it a small squeeze. “The silence is killing me.”
