CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
“It’s so good to see you like this,” Stewart told me, squeezing my hand as I passed her a pen and her receipt.
I smiled and we both laughed. I felt that I had shared something very personal with her.
“See you next week,” she said.
I was pleased for Stewart and the change ahead, but I was going to miss her a lot. And business-wise (usually an afterthought for me), I could hear Mali lecturing that losing a client as reliable as Stewart was going to affect how much money I would be bringing in each month, and what was I going to do about that?
I cleaned up my treatment room as fast as I could while still being thorough. I threw towels in the laundry and checked the bathroom to make sure it was clean enough and that the caramel apple−scented wax burner didn’t need another cube. Oh, how I loved the fall.
I didn’t wait for Elodie to finish with her client. I had managed to miss her return home this afternoon, and was relieved not to have to answer her questions about Kael. I just shouted a general “bye” in Mali’s direction and left. I checked my phone as I walked outside, turning into the alley. On days like today I was thankful that my house was only a five-minute walk from work. As I skirted around a pile of new mattresses outside of Bradley’s shop, I started to text Kael to see what he was up to. I stared at the phone, feeling the chill of cool air; it felt like rain was coming. I really hoped that I would see Kael tonight. Seeing him would instantly lift my spirits. He was the brightest star in my muted gray life.
The texting bubble popped up, three little gray dots were there, then they weren’t.
I looked up from my phone and down the alley. I could see Kael’s Bronco parked on the street right in front of my house. I used my hands to brush my hair back into a ponytail and straightened my shoulders, excitement bubbling through me. But when I reached the end of the alley and went to cross the street to my house, my eyes landed on a black Buick parked in my front driveway. I didn’t need to see theUS ARMYsticker on the bumper to know it was my dad’s.
I felt as if someone had poured a bucket of cold water over me. I was nervous now. Unsettled. I almost wanted to turn back around and hide behind the line of dumpsters in the alley and wished I could text Kael to tell him to get rid of my dad. But I knew that was something I had to do.
I walked faster and saw the screen door open when all of a sudden my dad’s voice boomed through the yard. I could see the shape of my dad in my doorway, his back turned to me. His hands were raised like he was yelling. Kael’s voice was next.
“You don’t have a fucking clue!” Kael shouted.
Chills ran from the tips of my fingers to the tips of my toes and something in my brain, some minuscule detail of a buried memory, told me to stop there, right before I reached the lawn. I stepped next to Kael’s truck for cover, wanting to assess what was happening.
They were going at it. And they were going at it hard, each word a blow.
“How dare you try to keep my daughter from me!” my dad accused. “You need to stay away from my family.”
Kael held his ground, and his voice was firm enough to make me want to hide from what I was hearing.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to be around you. Have you ever thought about that?”
“You’ve got some nerve showing up at my house, Martin. Especially after what happened in Afghanistan. Why do this when you’re about to get out?”
“You don’t give a fuck about me getting out, this is about you keeping your hands clean and your retirement.”
The rest of the words flew around me too fast to catch until I heard Kael say, “You’re a fucking criminal!”
Afghanistan. Criminal. My daughter. How dare you. Stay away.
I leaned in to the side of the truck and crouched down small, a feeble attempt to protect myself from what I was hearing. I couldn’t make sense of all of it, other than to realize that my dream of happily-ever-after had just ended. And a nightmare had begun.