Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 117177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 586(@200wpm)___ 469(@250wpm)___ 391(@300wpm)
As he caught sight of me, his face broke into a handsome grin, and I was taken aback again by how much he’d changed in the last year. He’d started running again, like he used to when I was a kid, and started eating a little healthier. It was no lie to say that those changes had taken ten years off him. And Miranda seemed to have influenced his wardrobe choices. No more baggy nineties suits for my dad. They were fitted and stylish. His gray hair was now cut and styled, and I realized as he walked toward me that Dad looked distinguished.
More than that, he looked happy.
Fuck.
I wanted my dad to be happy. I did. He’d been put through the wringer. But I also didn’t want him being taken for a fool either.
“Cupcake.” He greeted me with a warm embrace.
Relieved he didn’t seem mad at me, I accepted the embrace, relishing the rarity of his attention. When we settled down at the table, his blue eyes glittered under the restaurant lights. “You really do look like a cupcake now with that hair.”
I fingered my pale pink waves that I’d just had redone, so the color was pinker than ever. “I like it,” I replied, a little defensively. Mom already gave me shit about my hair every time I saw her. I didn’t need it from Dad too.
He raised his palms. “No, no, I like it. It suits you.”
I relaxed a little. “Thanks. And thanks for coming into the city.”
“No problem. It was nice to be invited.”
I tried not to take that as a pointed comment that I didn’t invite him enough into my life, but since he said it in such a pointed tone, it was difficult not to. Not wanting to argue with him that it went both ways, I shook it off.
The waiter arrived to take our order, and as soon as he was gone, I launched into my apology. “I’m sorry for not returning your calls about, well, the Mom thing. I have a lot going on at work. And on that note, while I wish I could help Miranda plan a sixteenth-birthday party for Alison, Dad, I am drowning in work. I just . . . I’m sorry, I just don’t have time. And honestly, it really would put me in the middle of things with Mom.”
My heart banged in my chest as Dad studied me carefully. I didn’t dare reach for my glass of water, even though my mouth was so dry, because I didn’t want him to see my hands shake.
For not the first time in my life, I cursed this incessant need to please.
Finally Dad sighed. “Look, I know it’s a little awkward, but we need to move past that. You can’t let your mother make you feel guilty for spending time with me and my new family.”
I tried not to flinch at his words.
“Miranda and Alison are in my life. They’re not going anywhere. So we all need to be grown-ups.”
He wasn’t wrong.
But he also wasn’t the one who would have to put up with Mom’s constant bitching about the whole thing. Bitching that covered her hurt.
“You’re right,” I acknowledged. “But, Dad, I’m not lying when I say I’m snowed under with work. I just don’t think I have time to plan a sixteenth-birthday party on the side.”
He frowned at me and sounded hurt as he asked, “But you have time for that boyfriend of yours, right?”
I stiffened. “We broke up actually.”
His expression softened with sympathy. “No doubt because you work too hard.” Dad reached over and covered my hand with his. “Take it from me, Cupcake, work isn’t everything. Don’t push away your loved ones in favor of your job.”
Duly guilted, frustration cut off my protestations. I wanted to tell him that George broke up with me because he thought I was ridiculous. I wanted to tell him I was too busy to plan Alison’s sixteenth because I worked for one of the most demanding and successful event-management companies in the country. I wanted to tell him that even more so than that I didn’t want to plan the party of some girl I barely knew who had only ever acted like a brat in my presence. Who didn’t seem to appreciate that my dad was stretching himself to the financial limit to provide her and her mother with a house that made my mom seethe with jealousy. I wanted to tell him I didn’t want to plan a sixteenth-birthday party for his “new kid” when he’d never even bothered to show up to mine!
I didn’t say any of that. Instead I pasted a smile on my face and agreed to plan the damn party.
EIGHT
Chris
Standing on my aunt’s sheltered back porch, I watched the rain hit the ocean. Today the sea was a dark grayish purple, reflecting the brooding sky. But as the rain made contact, the water splashed upward in thousands of bursts of what seemed like frenetic joy.