“No, and that’s exactly what’s going to drive me even harder this time, and believe me when I say I thought I tried my hardest the first time with my birth mother, to make this right.”
“But the money.”
“I know at least ten Hollywood clients who have gone there, plus I made the engagement ring for the director of the place. Made their wedding rings too and didn’t charge him a penny. I know they’ve got more rooms than they do occupants. To be completely honest with you it won’t cost me much. I just pay him for the food she eats and we’ll be square.”
“But the counseling and all that other stuff.”
“Counselors are on salary. They have no patients or one hundred, it doesn’t matter. Same thing. Group therapy sessions work the same way. Believe me, doll. I know how you think and I know you don’t like handouts. I know this,” he says, lifting up my chin with the tip of his finger as he often does. “Because I know you.” He pauses. “This isn’t going to cost me more than a few hundred bucks, a thousand tops. I don’t like talking about money, but I know how you are. It’s nothing, really. It’s less than the commission on one piece and a phone call. I’ll have it done and the money made before my head hits the pillow tonight.
“I want to pay,” I blurt out, having no clue where I’m going to get the money, and I don’t want him to try and bake it into my salary as a favor.
“You’re the best kind of brat, you know that?” he says, bringing my hands to his lips and kissing them. “When you signed the lease on that studio apartment you paid for first month’s, last month’s, and the security deposit, right?”
I nod.
“You haven’t stayed there for the last week and it’s time to break that lease. I’ll speak to the landlord about the living conditions, or lack thereof, that he’s providing and that security deposit and last month’s rent will be coming back your way…unless he wants his ass handed to him in court. You put that money towards your mom’s food and I haven’t helped you out one bit. You’ve paid for it. You’re the reason your mom gets better and believe me, she will get better because I’m going to make sure of it.
“There’s something else,” I say softly, knowing now’s the time to bring this up no matter how much it pains me.
“Let me out of here!” she yells, banging on the door and I cringe.
“She’s always blamed me for my dad leaving us.”
“That’s a psychological manipulation thing. How can that be your fault? You weren’t even born.”
“I know, but—“
He brings my hands, and his, to my mouth…four hands silencing me in my tracks.
“The only butt is the one I’m going to be spanking if you try and blame yourself for this ever again.”
I can’t help but smile.
“But seriously, if you want to talk to a professional we can make that happen.”
“Thank you. Let’s see how things go with mom first.”
“You got it,” he says, reaffirming that he is indeed one hundred percent behind my decision. He pauses. “You know what else I’ve got…because I’m so damn ready to see where things go with us? And by see I mean to see all the pictures of the memories we’re going to make together and you every morning for the rest of my life and see the smiles on your face and the kid’s faces and—“
I move our hands to his mouth now, playfully covering his lips. “You’re rambling. Out with it.”
Without taking his eyes from mine he slides out of his seat, around the side of the table and next to mine. Removing one hand from our stack of four hands and moving it to his pocket he opens a small, velvet, deep red box, slowly opening the lid.
“I’ve been working on this a week every second you’ve been away from me so that one day soon you’ll never leave my side ever again.”
My jaw drops at the size of the diamond attached to the beautiful ring. A million thoughts rush through my mind, even one about making a joke about everybody in the world wanting to take a shot at robbing me now, but then I remember exactly who’s by my side. My protector. My everything. My Daddy.
“Baby girl,” he says holding the ring up to the light and it’s only then I can see some sort of hologram type projection thing, and aptly it says, “Jake’s Jewel. Forever.”
I smile and when he catches my eyes he simply says, “Damn straight,” and slides the ring straight on my finger.
“You’re not going to ask me to marry you?”
“Daddy’s making the decision this time, no if’s, and’s, or but’s. You're my little girl forever now, whether you like it or not,” he adds, the last part a joke.
“Of course I like it, I love it,” I hold back though, and he reads me like an open book.
“I’m already the happiest man on earth because I have you, but what I always need to remember is that I have to have your permission for the big decisions.” He pauses. “Will you marry me?”