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“How did your meeting go today?” he asks.
“Really?” I raise my brow at him.
“Just wondering.” He taps his fingers on his leg. “I’m glad she went with you.”
“Okay.”
“She seems to be a lot like her mother.”
I shoot a look at him. “The hell she is. She’s nothing like that woman.” Is he trying to get himself thrown out onto the highway?
He laughs. “The good qualities only, of course. She’s very headstrong, just like Carol. She wants what she wants, but Tessie is much sweeter, gentler.”
Here we go with the Tessie bullshit again.
“I heard the two of you fighting. It woke me up.”
I roll my eyes. “Excuse us for waking you up at noon while you were sleeping on our couch.”
Again, I’m met with a chuckle. “I get it, man—you’re angry at the world. I was, too. Hell, I still am. But when you find someone who’s willing to put up with your shit, you don’t have to be so angry anymore.”
Well, old-timer, what do you suggest I do when your daughter is the one making me so goddamn angry? “Look, I’ll admit you aren’t as bad as I thought you were, but I didn’t ask for your advice, so don’t waste your time giving it to me.”
“I’m not giving you advice, I’m speaking from experience here. I’d hate to see the two of you end things.”
We aren’t ending things, Dick. I’m just trying to get my point across. I want to be with her, and I will be; she just needs to give in and come with me. I’m beyond fucking angry that she’d bring Zed into this shit again, regardless of her reasoning.
I turn the damn radio off. “You don’t even know me—or her, for that matter. Why would you care?”
“Because I know you’re good for her.”
“Do you?” I reply, sarcasm in full bloom. Thankfully we’re getting closer to his side of town, so this horrid conversation will be ending soon.
“Yes, I do.”
Then it strikes me, and I’ll never admit it to anyone, but it’s actually sort of nice to have someone say I’m good for her, even if it’s her drunk asshole of a father. I’ll take it.
“Are you going to be seeing her again?” I ask, and then quickly add, “And where exactly am I taking you?”
“Just drop me near the shop where we met yesterday; I’ll figure it out from there. And yes, I hope to be seeing her again. I have a lot of shit to make up for.”
“Yeah, you do,” I agree.
The parking lot next to the tattoo parlor is empty, which makes some sense, since it’s not even one in the afternoon yet.
“Can you drive me to the end of this street?” he asks.
I nod and pass the shop. The only thing at the end of this street is a bar and a run-down Laundromat.
“Thanks for the ride.”
“Yep.”
“Do you want to come inside?” Richard asks, nodding toward the small bar.
Getting a drink with Tessa’s homeless drunk father doesn’t sound like the most intelligent thing to do at the moment.
However, I’m not known for making good decisions. “Fuck it,” I mumble and turn the car off and follow him inside. It’s not like I had anywhere in mind to go anyway.
The bar is dark and smells like mold and whiskey. Following him to the small counter, I grab a stool, leaving an empty seat between us. A middle-aged woman wearing what I pray are her teenage daughter’s clothes walks toward us. Without a word she slides Richard a small glass filled with whiskey and ice.
“And for you?” she asks me, her voice raspy and deeper than mine.
“Same as him.”
Tessa’s voice warning me not to do this is clear as a bell between my ears. I push it away, push her away.
I raise the glass, and we toast and each take a sip. “How can you afford to be a drunk if you don’t work?” I ask.
“I clean the place every other day, so I drink for free.” Shame is clear in his voice.
“Why not be sober and get paid, then?”
“I don’t know; I tried and tried.” He stares at his glass with hooded eyes, and for a second they resemble mine. I can see a shadow of myself in them. “I’m hoping now it’ll get easier if I can see my daughter more often.”
I nod, not even bothering to hit him with a snide remark, and instead wrap my fingers around the cool glass. I welcome the familiar burn of scotch as I tip my head back and finish the rest. When I push it across the semipolished bar top, the woman makes eye contact and then starts pouring me another.
Chapter eight
TESSA
Your dad?” Landon says incredulously through the phone.
I forgot that I hadn’t had a chance to tell him about my father’s return.
“Yeah, we ran into him yesterday . . .”
“How is he? What did he say? What was it like?”
“He’s . . .” I don’t know why, but I feel embarrassed to tell Landon that my father is still drinking. I know he’d never judge me, but I’m still apprehensive.
“Is he still . . .”
“Yeah, he is. He was drunk when we saw him, but we brought him back here and he stayed the night.” I twirl a lock of hair around my index finger.
“Hardin let him?”
“He didn’t have a say in it; it’s my place, too,” I snap. But then I immediately feel bad and apologize. “I’m sorry, I’ve just had it with Hardin thinking he controls everything.”
“Tessa, do you want me to leave campus and come over?” Landon’s so kind; you can hear it in how he talks.