Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
My heart hurts as I think of the pain my mom must’ve endured. Losing a man I believe she loved with all her heart—that’s why she never dated or married. Dying young with a daughter barely in her twenties with no other family except a father she didn’t know. She must’ve been terrified at the end and lonely in the middle.
I hate that for her. So much.
“But why now?” Troy asks.
I sigh. “When Mom was sick, and at the end of her life, she saw my dad. She asked him to see her, and he did. She wrote me a letter and gave it to him to give me if he ever thought the time was right to come into my life. The letter contained things that only she knew, and it was in her handwriting. It spelled out what happened between them and said that if Joseph Dallo handed me this letter, I could trust him. That she wanted me to.” I smile sadly. “She told me once that a letter might appear one day written on her mother’s rose stationery. And if it did, I should read it. I didn’t know what that meant until my father handed me her letter.”
“I’m just throwing this out there,” he says carefully. “Do you find it ironic that he stayed out of your life because it wasn’t safe for over twenty years, and when he decided to make contact with you, someone threatened your life?”
I can’t deny it. That’s exactly what it looks like. But my gut tells me it’s not him, and I always trust my gut.
“It is ironic,” I admit. “But I think it’s a coincidence.”
Troy sighs in frustration.
“What would he gain from threatening to kill me?” I ask. “I talk to him all the time. We have a solid relationship.”
“You just met the guy.”
“I just met you, and I trust you won’t kill me. What’s the difference?”
He stops himself from answering.
“It makes much more sense to me that it’s Freddy,” I say. “I don’t know why no one believes that. He’s angry with me. He’s … unhinged. He had access to my house because I’d given him a key.”
Troy’s lips form a tight line. “What’s his motive?”
“I don’t know. That he thought I’d get scared and run back to him? That if he can’t have me, no one else will? He’s not made sense for a while, which only backs up my point.”
“When did he start not making sense?”
I think about it. “I’m not sure. Maybe … six months ago?”
“What has he been weird about? How did his behavior change?”
“He became erratic. Paranoid. He started buying things he couldn’t afford.” I look at Troy over my shoulder. “But now I know he was doing cocaine, so that fits the narrative.”
“You were never scared of him?”
I laugh. “Uh, no. I could probably take him in a fight. And, besides, I think he knew my dad would come for him if he hurt me.”
“Freddy knows about your dad?”
“Yeah, a few people do. It was hard keeping it from him when we practically lived together when I found out.” I think back to that time. “He didn’t love the idea that Joseph Dallo was my father. He thought he was a rich prick who’d walk away from me again.”
Troy hums. “Can I ask you something else?”
“Sure.”
“I notice you never call Joseph Dad. You say my dad or my father. But never Dad.”
“Yeah, I don’t know why. I’ve let it slip a time or two, but it’s just … he didn’t play catch with me in the yard. He didn’t pick me up from school or tuck me in at night. I didn’t grow up thinking he was the biggest, strongest man in the world. So maybe I want to preserve that title for someone who embodies it.” I shrug. “I imagine hearing my children call my husband Dad someday, and it feels so special. I want it to feel special. It should feel special.”
He considers this as we stop and look across the ocean. Birds dip into the water, looking for fish. A boat sails in the distance. I don’t know if it’s the salt in the air or if my defenses are whittled down, but sharing this with Troy allows me to breathe a little easier.
“What about your parents?” I ask, taking the focus off me. “What are they like?”
Troy’s entire demeanor changes. His hands come out of his pockets. Shadows fall across his face. He looks at the ground as we walk, his lips pressed into a thin line.
“I’m sorry,” I say. “We don’t have to talk about them.”
He forces a swallow and heaves a breath. Finally, he speaks. “Parent is such a loaded word.”
I nod but stay quiet.
“Let’s just say that my parents were the opposite of yours,” he says. “They weren’t in love. They didn’t stick to their word. And they sure as hell didn’t sacrifice anything for Travis and me.”