I’ll be damned. My father just went up a notch in my book. He recycles.
Of course, one notch doesn’t get him very far.
I toss the beer cans in the green container, and then I head back into the living room to grab the ashtray. Why not tidy up a little? This guy did father me, after all. As preposterous as that may seem.
I head toward the ashtray, but I’m waylaid by Rainey, who appears from behind her closed door now wearing skinny jeans and Iron Maiden T-shirt. Her platinum hair is pulled back in a ponytail now and her raccoon eyes are gone. If it weren’t for the scarlet lipstick, she actually wouldn’t look too bad. The fine lines marring her skin cover what was once an oval face with high cheekbones and a nicely defined jawline. Unfortunately, the years of cigarettes and alcohol have taken their toll.
“What’s your favorite place to eat around here?” I ask.
“Curt and I never eat out,” she says. “So I’m not really sure. There are a few places up the road a bit. I can show you.”
“Sure. We can take my car.”
“Good thing, seeing as I don’t have one.”
We walk out the door, and she clicks the key into the deadbolt, locking it. We get into my car, and she pulls a pack of cigarettes out of her purse.
“Sorry. No smoking in my car.” No way in hell is my car going to smell like an ashtray.
She scoffs, but she puts the cigarettes away. “Just go on out to the right, up the street, and then turn right onto the main drag. There’s some places a couple miles up.”
I follow her instructions and then I clear my throat. “So…how long have you and my dad been together?”
“About a year and a half.”
“So you didn’t know Joey. My brother.”
She shakes her head as she looks out the passenger window. “No, he was long gone by the time Curt and I got together.”
Her tone is nonchalant, and I try not to be bothered by it. If my father doesn’t care about his own son, why should she?
I inhale a breath, determined to keep my cool.
“Did my dad ever mention him?”
“Nope.”
“I suppose that’s not surprising,” I say, “seeing how he never mentioned to you that he had a daughter either.”
She turns, and I feel her gaze on me as I watch the road through the windshield.
“You know, you look kind of like him. Like Curt.”
“Actually I look a lot more like my mom.”
“She must be a pretty thing. You sure are.”
I stop my eyebrows from flying off my head. Did my father’s girlfriend just give me a compliment?
“Thank you.”
She sighs. “I wish I were young and pretty again. Those days are long gone. Enjoy your youth, honey. It’s gone before you know it.”
“How old are you, Rainey?”
“Not a day over thirty-five.” She cackles out a laugh. “I’m actually forty-three. Just had a birthday two weeks ago.”
“Happy belated birthday. This can be your birthday lunch, then.”