“You figure that all out yourself?”
I blush. “I read about it.”
“Fields aren’t necessarily easy to come by, especially in inner cities, but skiing is definitely less accessible. You actually going to go through with this volunteering?”
“I’m offended. You think I’m that spoiled that I can’t handle a little volunteer work?”
He looks me in the eyes. “Yes.”
The bluntness of his answer stuns me. He really thinks that? I guess I haven’t given him any reason to think otherwise. If he thinks that about me, why is he spending time with me? Maybe it’s just all about the sex for him, so my character flaws don’t matter. It was all about the sex for me, too, except that changed at some point. In the span of a few days, he’s given me the best birthday gift ever: he made a sexual fantasy come true and he took me snowboarding. He’s like fucking Santa Clause.
“What do you do to be good?” I ask. “Besides rescuing alley cats?”
Looking ahead at the road, he makes a wry grin, to himself it seems. “Philanthropy.”
“Yeah? Like what kind of philanthropy?”
“Supporting foster youth programs. Too many kids fall through the cracks.”
“Were you one of them?”
“I was one of the lucky ones, and there aren’t a lot of lucky ones.”
“In what way were you lucky?”
“I was adopted by parents who treated me well. My dad was a hard ass, but that’s how I knew he cared about me. I no longer had to wonder where my next meal might come from.”
I think about all the things I have that he might not have had growing up. “I guess I was born super lucky then.”
“You were.”
“Except for the dad part. I’m not sure mine really cares all that much about me. He cares about appearances, that’s for sure. That’s probably why he goes to church. And to repent for his sins. I think repenting makes him feel like he can continue sinning. As long as he repents, all’s good. It’s such a joke.”
Jack’s face seems to darken. “You don’t think your dad cares about you?”
“Not about my happiness, that’s for sure. If he cared, he wouldn’t push me to marry someone I have zero interest in marrying. I don’t know that I ever want to marry.”
“No Prince Charming for the princess?”
I shrug. “Don’t see the point really. I mean, maybe it works for people who come from normal, healthy families. I think the only reason my parents are still married is because the Catholic church doesn’t approve of divorce, though that doesn’t stop my father from committing other wrongs, like adultery. He’s such a hypocrite.”
“You don’t sound like a fan of your old man.”
“’Cause he won’t let me live my own life. In this country, in this day and age, he wants to choose who I’m going to marry? How backwards is that?”
“You’re twenty-years old, Casey. What’s stopping you from living your life?”
I don’t have an answer to that question. I’m also stunned he said my name instead of calling me ‘princess.’ It feels like progress.
Jack continues, “How much longer are you going to live under daddy’s roof while rebelling against him in passive aggressive ways?”
I raise my eyebrows. I’m beginning to see why this guy doesn’t have a girlfriend. Or maybe he does and he simply hasn’t told me.
But he’s right, though I don’t want to admit it. Except for the whole marrying Kenton thing, I haven’t resisted my father on anything. Aside from the usual teenage stuff, like breaking curfew or smoking, I’ve been a damn good daughter, and still my father doesn’t seem to see me.
I change the subject. “What about you? You plan to get married someday? Or are you cheating on your wife right now?”
He pulls up in a half empty parking lot before a dumpy looking wood structure. Not the sort of spot you expect someone with a Bugatti to patronize. I thought we were going to eat at one of the fancier places at the ski resort.