Inferno (A Harmony Love Story) Page 6

  “This damn old thing,” he barked, unable to make the handle work and bring it back to a sitting position.

  After placing his breakfast down on the coffee table, I bent beside the chair and gave the lever a good tug.

  “You need to replace this,” I groaned, using all my strength until it clicked, bringing him up. I didn’t miss his not-so-subtle attempt to slide his blanket down to the floor on the other side, snatching it from his hands.

  “Why is your comforter out here?” I asked accusingly.

  He only shook his head and leaned forward for the coffee.

  “I’m serious, Dad!” I began folding the comforter, planning to take it back upstairs to his bed before I left. “You can’t sleep in a chair! If you don’t want to go up the stairs at night, then maybe we can move your bedroom down here to the dining room or something. Not like you use it anyway.”

  He grunted disapprovingly. “Not putting a bed in the dining room, Hilary. It’s fine. Just got too tired to climb the stairs last night.”

  I tilted my head, eyes sliced his way. “Really? But you went up there to get your blanket, then made it all the way back down here?”

  “Wanted to watch some TV.”

  “You have one in your room. I bought it for you last Christmas, remember? So what else ya got, old man?” I was batting a thousand, and he was feeling the heat.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and stood. “Thanks for the breakfast.” He grabbed the bag. “You come over to visit or chew me out?”

  I followed behind him into the kitchen. “Depends. If you’re not taking care of yourself, then someone has to. You have a bad back, Dad. You need your bed to rest your muscles in, not the chair you spend every damn day in. The doctor even said—”

  “Hell wit’ the doctor. I can’t sleep in that bed. I like to sit up.”

  I narrowed my eyes, hands on my hips. “So you can drink until you pass out? I bet it’s a lot more difficult to do that lying down, huh?”

  He lifted his gaze from the bag of pastries, his expression stern. My stomach knotted but I held my stare steady on his.

  “Don’t see how that’s anyone’s business,” he said firmly, then sat at the table, opening the bag. “Didn’t know apple fritters were on your new diet.”

  Typical—I bring up significant issues and he shuts me down. Who can blame him? It always worked in the past.

  I grabbed two small plates from the cupboard and sat down across from him. “I said I was working out, not dieting.”

  His brows rose in an unimpressed way before he placed the bigger of the two fritters on my plate. “Good, then eat up.”

  “Dad…I’m not a kid anymore.” What was I supposed to say? How could I get through to him, the most stubborn man I knew?

  “I just worry, okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  And that was all we would usually say on the subject, if it ever came up. It was always me dancing around it and him blowing it off, but today was different. I had to be stronger, but my dad’s drinking was always off limits. He worked hard and took care of me. I usually had no right to judge or criticize.

  But that had changed. He’d stepped outside the bounds by going to Haven the previous night, so now it was my turn.

  “So, you do anything fun last night?” I asked, tearing off a piece of doughnut to eat.

  He peered over his coffee cup. “Probably not as much as you. How was the big shindig?”

  “You tell me,” I challenged.

  His expression fell. “Ah, damn, just thought I’d check it out. We haven’t had a real bar in this town since before you were born! Can’t blame me for wanting to see what all the fuss was about.”

  “Since when do you even leave the house?” I asked, genuinely.

  He shrugged a shoulder. “Marvin stopped over—”

  I snorted out a humorless laugh, beginning to understand.

  “We got to talking about you kids, and after a couple of beers decided to see what you all considered a good time nowadays.”

  “You’re not that old.” I took another bite, only to freeze mid-chew. “Wait, did you drive after a couple beers, or did he?”

  He swatted the air. “Nah, I’m not that dumb. We walked. Only a mile or so away.”

  My mouth fell open, eyes bulging. “You walked!”

  He laughed. “Yeah, that is something an old man with a bad back can still do, you know.”

  “But that’s more than a mile—almost two!”

  “Sounds about right.”

  I leaned forward across the table, making sure I was all he could see, hoping he’d listen. “That had to take you at least thirty minutes—in the dark, over railroad tracks! What the hell were you thinking?”

  “Not liking your tone, Hilary. I’m not a goddamned child so I can go out anytime I please, you got me?”

  I looked away, unable to drop it. For him, a half hour was equivalent to at least a six-pack, which I had no doubt he’d brought along. And with it being nighttime, he’d most likely already been buzzed by then. I cringed, picturing his state of mind—or more so, his behavior—by the time he’d reached Haven.

  Since I hadn’t seen him there, I had to ask, “What time did you show up?”

  He swallowed a mouthful as I waited, stewing. “Too late. Apparently you kids aren’t the night owls my generation was. Place was dying down by eleven.”

  Caleb had called close to midnight, which meant Dad hadn’t stayed long. I sent up a silent prayer that he’d left of his own accord and not been asked to leave…or worse, banned on opening night.

  “We about through with the interrogation?” he asked, sipping his coffee.

  I stood and walked to the fridge for some juice. “Almost. What exactly did you say to Caleb?” I peered back at him, pronouncing the next word slowly for him to understand its gravity. “Exactly.”

  “Ah, you know, a little of this, a little of that.”

  Apparently he either didn’t understand or care. I poured my drink, shooting him a look.

  He lifted his hands in surrender. “Not much, all right? He had some girls all over him, talking about ideas for the weekends, and he looked annoyed. The man needed a way out of the conversation, so I gave him one.”

  I stopped, mouth full of juice, unsure what that meant. Quickly, I swallowed. “Which was?”

  “Heart attack.”

  He said it so matter-of-factly I almost wondered if I’d heard him correctly. “You faked a heart attack!?” I screamed, slamming the glass down so hard I wasn’t sure how it didn’t shatter.

  To my horror, my dad only sat there chuckling. Was he serious?

  I raced toward him. “Please tell me that was a joke.”

  “A joke on the girls, sure.”

  I stepped back, dazed, until my ass hit the counter. My own father had faked a heart attack, at Haven, in front of Caleb. Holy shit.

  Caleb saw him drunk and had probably guessed it wasn’t a rare sight. Combine that with his knowledge of my possible stalker—who’d been in my panties at least once, as I’d not-so-delicately texted him by mistake—and it was enough to diminish the last thread of hope I had. My hands began to tremble, invisible walls caving in.

  Do I deserve this? Because of Rafe? Because I’d lived it up on his dime for the last year while Cassandra and other coeds slaved at multiple jobs? It wasn’t fair. I’d worked my ass off too, since I was twelve, babysitting, dog walking, and bagging groceries at the market all before high school. I had just one year off while I finished exams and pulled in a GPA of 3.8, and now I was being greeted with a shitstorm back to reality.

  “What were you thinking? Oh my God!” I cried out, bent forward as my head spun. “And he knows you’re my father. You didn’t think that was a bad idea!?”

  He stood, brows puckered. “Hey, now, calm down, girly. There were only a few people there besides Marv and me. Plus Caleb thanked me, profusely. You should’ve seen those two girls. Kept talking over each other, pawing at the poor gu
y.”

  He looked off thoughtfully. “Lucky son of a bitch.”

  “Dad!” I shot up straight. “Are you serious right now?”

  He slid back into his seat and took another drink of coffee. “Kept waiting for him to pick one, but never happened.”

  “Pick one?” I asked, suddenly wishing I hadn’t with a grimace. “Never mind.”

  “Look, I know you got a little crush on the boy, but he’s not for you. He’s been around, seen too much, and has bigger plans. Best for you to keep your distance. Got me?”

  “No, no, I don’t gotcha.” I pushed off from the counter. “What made you fake a heart attack?” And why hadn’t Caleb told me that part last night?

  “He just asked me if I wanted another drink and I saw that look on his face—the, ‘Help me here, buddy.’ So I grabbed my chest and started panting and, you know, acting. Never was my strong suit, but I gave it all I had,” he said, chuckling.

  This is so not funny.

  “Then Marv started shouting at everyone, telling Caleb to call an ambulance.”

  My anger morphed into mortification, but even in the midst of emotional turmoil, I couldn’t hate my father.

  But I could also never show my face around Haven again. After all the times I’d tried to get my dad out of the house, I was suddenly thankful he’d never taken me up on it.

  “And then?” I asked emotionlessly, unsure I wanted to know the rest.

  “Caleb calmed everyone down and turned on the lights. Place was cleared out within a few minutes. That kid can take control of a situation.”

  “And then?”

  “Then he shook my hand, poured me a drink, and said my tab was on him. Hell of a good time.”

  Blowing out a long breath, I grabbed my plate from the table, tossed the rest of my doughnut in the trash, and poured my juice down the sink. My appetite had vanished.

  “I didn’t mean to embarrass you, girly. Honestly didn’t think he’d know I was your old man.”

  With an unbelieving snicker, I turned on my heel and gripped the chair in front of me. “Well you made sure to tell him, didn’t you?”

  His brows puckered. “Nah, that was all Marv. We’d heard the girls going on about helping out, and Marv recommended you at first.”

  “At first?” My palms began to sweat and I felt my breath catch, consumed in a sense of dread.

  He scratched his cheek, then ran his hand across his face. “Ah hell, girly, I had a few drinks. Don’t remember the specifics of what all was said, but nothing embarrassing, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  My breath flew out in the form of laughter filled with pure venom. I pushed away from the chair so hard it fell backward onto the floor. I didn’t care.

  “You might not have said anything, but you sure had enough actions to take care of that! What did I ever do to you?” His expression went from stunned to puzzled. “Huh? I pick up your groceries every week—sometimes more than that. I cook your dinners when you need me to. I visit more than most kids ever visit their parents. I’ve always tried to be a good daughter, and—”

  “Hil, you’re the best dau—”

  I threw my hands up. “Really? And that’s how you show it—by walking drunk over a mile in the dark with a friend I’m sure was even more intoxicated than you? Then for you to show up at Haven when you know…”

  The sting of tears began to blur my vision. “You knew everyone would be there. That he would…”

  I couldn’t stop the tears from falling, or the wobble in my knees. I needed air, and I needed it right then.

  Powered by anger, I hustled into the living room for my bag, and when I turned back around, Dad was standing in the entryway to the kitchen. Shame and guilt marred his expression.

  “I didn’t realize,” he started, scrubbing a hand across his jaw. “I just wanted to check things out. Haven’t had a real night out in so long. You know it’s too much of a drive to the city for me and Marv to go to a bar. Thought it’d be fun to check the place out.”

  “Don’t you see the problem, Dad?” I wiped away the tears resting on my chin. “Why does it have to be a bar? Why can’t you go bowling or golfing, or just do things that other—”

  “Other dads do,” he finished for me.

  Everything hurt—my head, my heart, even my limbs—but I couldn’t stop myself. “Yeah.”

  When he lowered his head, I raced out the door, but not before telling him loudly enough for him to hear, “Love you.” I’d never left without saying it before and I couldn’t start, even now.

  I needed a distraction. I couldn’t stand feeling like I had no control over my own life. The entire world was against me and the faster I drove down Main Street, the harder it was to stop myself from packing all my shit and fleeing, just like Caleb had.

  The thought of Caleb seeing my dad drunk was too much. And just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, I was proven wrong.

  I heard the siren before I saw the lights, but one glance in my rearview mirror confirmed that the universe hated me. I pulled into a vacant parking lot across from the grocery store and waited for life to kick me in the head again.

  I rolled down the window, scouring my bag for my ID.

  “License and regis—Hilary?”

  The moment I lifted my head and saw her face, the tears sprung free. They were uncontrollable; a downpour far overdue.

  “Oh, Hilary.”

  I heard Felicia open my door and I was suddenly embraced in a warm hug—one I imagined only a mother could give, and she was the closest I had to it. “Sweetie, what’s wrong?”

  There were no words, only sobs. I’d gone from a proud college graduate walking straight into the perfect job with my dream guy back in town to a broke whore with an alcoholic father. My sobs grew wilder, nose running, and I was unable to feel anything other than sorrow.

  Felicia gripped my shoulders gently and pulled away just enough to see my face. I dropped my arms and head, unable to look her in the eye. She’d raised Cassandra on her own. She was the strongest woman I knew, and to have her see me like this was unbearable.

  She dropped to her haunches and lifted my chin. “Talk to me, sweetie,” she said, tucking my hair behind my ears. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it. If you need me to call Cassie, consider it done. If you just want me to listen, I can do that too.”

  With a small nod and hand on my nose, I turned to my console for a tissue, but this wasn’t my Mustang. There was nothing in there except darkness. My chest tightened again. No, I couldn’t sit and cry all day. How would that help?

  “I…I’m just having a bad day.” I wanted to laugh. A bad day—more like week.

  She lifted my chin again, forcing me to look at her. “Hilary, why don’t we take a little walk, okay?”

  Another nod and I was out of the car, strolling down Main Street with the deputy sheriff, neither of us speaking other than her noting the weather. The late-July sun scorched down, but for once, it didn’t bother me. My mind was preoccupied, not wanting to stop walking until we hit a bench just inside the park.

  She sat first, compelling me to do the same without being prodded or asked. The park was vacant, which was surprising for a weekend morning, but I was thankful. Tall oak trees shaded us from the sun’s rays, a cool gust of wind refreshing my downward-spiraling thoughts.

  The longer we sat, the more comfortable our silence became, which was the opposite of what I’d expect. Felicia was tough, but kind. She just sat there, smiling at the birds.

  “I slept with a married man,” I said shamefully. “I didn’t know he was married or that he had a family, but I did know he made a lot of money.”

  The confession was freeing, necessary, and started off an hour of more to follow. It was on that bench that I released every fear, shame, and insecurity I’d been holding onto, finding a new understanding to the phrase “spilling your guts.”

  Once I started talking, I couldn’t stop myself. I told her about my dad’s bar run,
my humiliation and concern for him. I even came clean about my Mustang when she asked about the Camry.

  I laid it all out, baring myself to the only person I felt wouldn’t judge me. And she didn’t—at least not that I saw. Instead, she held my hand through the tears, and hugged me tightly when I cursed my bad decisions.

  She also made me realize that maybe I was overreacting with my dad. He wasn’t a child or a freak, and he deserved a life too. But it was the final straw. The thought of him too drunk to hear a train or getting stuck on the tracks was ridiculous but a genuine fear, I realized with her help, that I had. There was a sense of responsibility I felt for him, and no matter how grown up I became, that would never change. He was the only family I had, so as humiliated as I was about Caleb possibly seeing him wasted, Felicia made me realize that it was the fear of him getting hurt that had caused me to lose it.

  She held my hand from outside my car when we arrived back. “So you’re not going to skip town anymore?”

  I smiled for the first time since she pulled me over. “No, I’m so over that,” I joked.

  The sense of dread had cleared, and as I looked around town at all the people who knew me, I felt safe there.

  “He’s hiding something,” Felicia said, and I followed her gaze.

  Haven sat at the end of the street, the opposite of the way we’d walked, and there, standing out front, was Caleb. He looked handsome even from a distance, wearing a casual black tee and dark denim jeans paired with black shades. He didn’t see me, instead pointing and talking to someone about the building before heading inside.

  “Aren’t we all?” I replied. “Wherever he’s been, whatever he’s seen, it’s made him who he is today. And that’s the person I want a chance to know.”

  Felicia smiled and pulled me in for a hug. “You’re gonna be all right, Hilary. You’re a smart girl and you’re a good girl, no matter what anyone else says.”

  “Thank you.” I opened my door, bending down to slide inside. “Hey, have you talked to Cassandra today? I can’t get ahold of her.”

  “No,” she said, walking back to her squad car. “But things are looking up for you, like I said.”

  She pointed across the street and there, in the grocery-store parking lot, sat Cassandra’s Beetle.