Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 83020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83020 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 415(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Slick doesn’t take the hint as she crosses the room, so I pull my phone out of my pocket and press my dad’s contact. I lift the phone to my ear, drawing a set of narrowed eyes as Slick stops in her tracks. She’s well aware of what I’m doing, and I know I won’t be able to avoid her forever, but today just isn’t the day.
“Harley.” A sense of calm washes over me at the sound of my dad’s voice.
“Dad,” I return.
Micah Cobreski isn’t my biological father. That man died last year, but the relationship was severed long before his death. In and out of prison most of my life, Robbie Farrow was never really a dad. I know there were days he wanted to be what I needed, but he just couldn’t manage it for long. My mom met Micah at a gas station one day after I climbed out of the car when he and a few other guys from Cerberus pulled up on motorcycles. I could never resist such beautiful machines, and that day was no different. Getting in trouble by Mom was worth it though, because that day started something I’ll always be grateful for.
“How are you doing today, son?”
“It’s a yellow day,” I tell him.
We rarely talk about losing Lana, but we use a color system for me to explain where my head is at.
Yellow is not exactly good, but still a couple of stages away from bad. Dad knows that just talking to him about random things is enough to help me when I need it. I’ve always known I could call anytime, day or night, and I use that privilege so often now.
“Did you go for a ride?”
“I did.” When I spoke with him first thing this morning, I was orange, leaning closer to red. So I took his suggestion of leaving Aria at the daycare for a while and going for a bike ride.
“I remember riding in the heat. That leather warms up very quickly.”
Dad was a member of Cerberus and gave it up to move to Texas with my mom. I don’t think he ever regretted walking away from the club because he gained my mother and me in return, despite Robbie Farrow not being able to get his shit together to be the dad he promised. Mom moved us all the way to Galveston so my biological dad could still be in my life. She gave Micah up for me because she thought I needed Robbie, and although she was wrong, everything worked out just the way it was supposed to.
“I like the heat,” I remind him, but I don’t explain that I only stay outside when it’s so warm because it feels like a punishment I deserve.
“Maybe a swim in one of those pools later?”
“Maybe,” I say, but I know I won’t.
Swimming is fun, and I avoid all fun things these days. If Lana can’t have fun, then neither should I.
Silence fills the line, but it’s not at all uncomfortable.
“I bet Aria would love a dip in the indoor pool,” Dad says after a long pause.
“She’s too young,” I argue.
“She loves baths,” he reminds me.
“Maybe she would like a dip in the pool.”
“I bet they have tons of floats for kids,” he says quickly before I can make up the excuse of ordering one for her.
“You’re probably right.”
“I’m always right,” he says with a smile in his voice.
I chuckle at his insistence. He’s said those words to me hundreds of times while I was growing up, and, coincidently, he’s right most of the time.
“I better go grab her for a swim.”
“Do you want to speak with Mom?”
“Maybe later,” I tell him.
I usually talk to Mom on green days. It hurts her when I get lost in my grief and there’s nothing she can do to help.
“Maybe tomorrow then?”
“Maybe tomorrow,” I agree.
“Call me anytime.”
“You know I will. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you, too, kid.”
I smile as I hang up. Even though I’m thirty-one, he still calls me kid, and I hope that never changes. That man was the biggest blessing I ever had until Lana and then Aria.
I quickly pocket my phone and leave the room. If I continue to sit and stew in my emotions, I’ll end up getting the gun out of the safe, and I’m too close to green to backslide today.
The soft, sweet singing voice brings me back to happier times, and I get lost in it for a moment before entering the daycare. But it isn’t my wife singing to Aria. My eyes narrow immediately upon seeing the stranger walking around with Aria as she feeds her a bottle.
“What are you doing?” I snap as I approach.
The woman startles, knowing she’s been caught doing something wrong and immediately relinquishes my child before taking a wide-eyed step back.