Page 76 of Just A Little Joy
“It’s okay. I know you’re not there, and that’s fine. I wanted to be honest about where I am.” His voice didn’t wobble. Not once. “I’m not asking you to stay. I’m not laying a guilt trip on you. I want you to be happy, and if that’s not here, then I want you to be happy wherever you need to go. But you’ll always have a soft place to land with me.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t need to say anything.” Daddy grasped the coat tighter around me, fussing with the collar so the wind wouldn’t sneak in. “Here. Let me get this right. I don’t want you getting sick.” He looked right at me. “You want me to take you home?”
I nodded immediately, but I couldn’t trust my voice to make sound that made sense.
“Then I will,” he said, gentle as anything.
“What am I forgetting?”I muttered to myself.
Daddy had gone inside, grabbed my jacket, and told the boys I was feeling a little under the weather so I needed to head home before I got anyone sick. I knew damn well they hadn’t believed him, but they’d pretended to and let me slip out without a fuss. Being in that house while they celebrated me—me, the guy walking away from their friendship—had made no sense. I’d needed air. Space. Something quiet.
Watching them all settled and secure with their Daddies…was too much. And Daddy, steady as ever, had seen it and fixed it. The best kind of fixer. Not overbearing, not pushy. He always asked before stepping in, always let me find my own way.
How could I be thinking about leaving while simultaneously cataloging all the ways Daddy was exactly who I needed in my life—and exactly who I wanted?
“Holy shit— My notebook.”
I dropped to the closet floor and dug through the pile of junk left by the previous tenant until I found my food truck notebook, my Stone and Vine paycheck, and my last stash of cash tips I hadn’t taken to the bank so I’d have travel cash. I gathered them both and sat cross-legged on the bed.
Inside that notebook was everything I’d dreamed about for years. Sample menus. Recipes. Graphic design ideas. Layout sketches. My whole little pie-in-the-sky plan. And when I got on that plane tomorrow, I’d be no closer to any of it. Worse, I’d be walking away from the one person who somehow knew every nook and cranny of me and loved me anyway.
I shoved myself off the bed like it burned and grabbed my duffel from the floor to double-check what else I needed to pack. I refused to sit there and think anymore about the dreams I was leaving behind.
Fuck my life.
Daddy’s Rainer hoodie was the very first thing I noticed when I unzipped the bag. When I swiped it the other day, I told him it was because I was cold and forgot mine. Lies. My own was shoved at the bottom of my bag, where there was no chance he’d find it because I wanted something of his when I was in my apartment. I didn’t want to say so aloud and sound like an overly dramatic high schooler.
A good person wouldn’t have taken it in the first place, which definitely ruled me out. A halfway decent person would returnit with an apology, which also wasn’t going to happen. I was keeping Daddy’s hoodie. A reminder? A memento? A tether.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I fished it out. Daddy’s name was on the screen. As much as I wanted to see what he had to say, I was terrified to read it. Shit. Rip off the Band-Aid.
Daddy
Let me know if you want/need a ride to the airport.
Asked the payroll company to send your direct deposit for your final check now rather than waiting until the regular day. Your Xmas bonus is there too.
I’d been fighting back tears all evening, but now they welled up in the corners of my eyes. I was leaving him, and he still wanted to take care of me and smooth my path.
Daddy
And the second deposit is from me. It’ll drive me up the wall if I’m not sure you have enough to get yourself settled. And make that dream happen.
With shaky hands, I managed to enter my passcode into my bank app. The bonus was wildly generous. The second deposit was what sent tears streaming down my cheeks. Ten thousand dollars. It was more than enough to pay for my ticket and any unexpected expenses. But Daddy and I both knew I wouldn’t have many. Instead, he was funding my dream because that’s who he was.
Ten thousand dollars.
Ten. Thousand. Dollars.
I stared at the number until it blurred, until it no longer looked real. My bank account had never had that many zeros. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, but more tears slipped free anyway, hot and stupid and definitely not on brand for a guy about to run away to Alaska like it was some heroic personal journey.
I set the phone on my mattress and just…sat there. Legs crossed. Hoodie bunched in my lap like a pet I wasn’t supposed to have but was keeping anyway. I dragged the sleeve across my cheek and breathed it in. Of course it smelled like him. Something warm, something woodsy, something clean and steady and solid, and a little like the bar too. I shouldn’t have taken it. Except I absolutely should have. It was the only thing in this stupid apartment that felt safe. I yanked the hoodie free and pressed it against my chest.
Suddenly, I wished I were back in his house, under his blankets, his hand stroking my hair while he read to me. God, that sounded pathetic. Who thinks about that at a time like this? Apparently me.
No one had ever done something like that for me before. Not once in my entire life had anyone looked at my dream and said, “Let me make that easier.” Most people didn’t even realize I wanted anything long-term because by the time they cared enough to ask, I was already packing.