Page 87 of Puck Drop
Taking a shuddering breath in, I raise my hand and make a fist with it before banging it softly against the hard surface of the door.
I hold my breath as I wait for someone to answer. When I hear footsteps from the other side, I feel absolutely sick to my stomach. I take another deep breath in just as the door starts opening. My father looms over me like a dark angel.
As I take him in, I’m surprised by how casual he looks. He’s wearing a white T-shirt, paired with light wash jeans and athletic shoes on his feet. For most of my life, he wore suits. Even when he did wear jeans, they were always the very expensive type and most definitely pressed. The ones he’s wearing now or no brand name, they’re as plain as they come. He looks younger than his fifty-two years.
“Elizabeth,” he says, in his always gruff tone of voice. “Are you going to stand outside for the rest of the evening? Are you here to talk to me, or… Just to stare at the door?”
Snapping out of it, I roll my eyes at what he just said.
“I didn’t know you had this kind of sense of humor, daddy,” I tease him.
He clears his throat, looking self-aware. “It seems that I developed one since the last time you were here,” he says.
My eyebrows go up in surprise, wondering what could’ve caused him to become this relaxed. He’s always been tense and driven, focused only on the task at hand. But the man in front of me seems different.
“I would like to come in,” I tell him in a slightly timid voice. “If you’re okay with it.”
He takes a couple of steps back to allow me entrance. “More than,” he murmurs softly.
I walk inside the home I grew up in, expecting to find it the same as I left it. But there’s a different vibe to it, something I can’t put my finger on. It looks light and airy, it feels like a happy place.
When we walk into the large sitting room, I notice new white curtains adorning the large windows. We used to always just have shades that would go up and down at the touch of a button.
“Wow,” I say in awe when I look around the rest of the room. “You got new furniture in here.”
Raising his arm to run his fingers through his still thick hair, he looks away almost in embarrassment. “Yeah, it was time for some changes.”
“It looks really good,” I tell him. “I really like it.”
“Good, that’s good,” he says. “Have a seat. Do you want anything to drink?”
I walk over to the new white couch and sit down, loving the way my body sinks into the cushions.
“This is awesome,” I giggle. “So comfortable!”
My father watches me for a few moments, the beginning of a smile forming in the corner of his lips. He has the same look onhis face that he used to get every time he would see me happy about something while I was growing up. Drinks forgotten, he comes and sits in the chair that’s across from me.
Once I am over the amazing feel of the new couch, the air around us seems to change. There’s the hint of a little bit of tension floating around, and I get nervous again, wishing that maybe I should’ve skipped this visit.
“I’ve been talking to Leyla a lot lately,” I start the conversation.
His eyebrows go up in surprise, much in the same way that mine always do. He doesn’t say anything, but there’s obvious curiosity showing in his eyes.
“She is really nice,” I continue. “I never talked to her much before, and I wish I had taken the time to get to know her better.”
He clears his throat and looks away. “Leyla is a great communicator,” he agrees, but that’s all he’s willing to say about her. My curiosity is definitely piqued.
“She really seems invested in wanting us to reconnect,” I add.
He turns his intense eyes on me. “You don’t sound like you agree with that.”
I look away, confused about so many things, especially by how our connection broke the moment that he learned about Logan.
“I missed you a lot while I was away,” I confess to him. “It was really hard at first. Getting a job was… awful.”
He starts laughing when he hears that. He shakes his head at me, looking like he might want to say something, but then he changes his mind.
“I’m laughing about it now, too,” I tell him. “But I cried a lot when I lost that job. I cried even harder when I realized that people my age had been working for a lot longer, and that I really didn’t know how to survive on my own.”
