There’s Wild, Then There’s You (The Wild Ones #3)(59)
Author: M. Leighton

Rubbing my thumb back and forth over my father’s phone, I’m still standing at the door, lost in thought, when he comes out of his bedroom.

“Who was that?”

I look up to meet his puzzled green eyes.

“Jet.”

He doesn’t look surprised or worried or . . . anything really, he just asks, “What did he want?”

I hold up his phone. “He said you left this in his car.”

Dad pats his right leg, as if automatically feeling for it in his pocket. “I hadn’t even realized I dropped it.”

I don’t move, so my father walks to me and takes the phone from my fingers, sliding it into place in his pocket. We stand, staring silently at each other for a couple of minutes before I speak.

“Do you have something that you want to tell me, Dad?”

He shrugs. “Not really.”

“Well then maybe you’ve got something that I want you to tell me.”

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.”

“When were you with Jet, Dad? And why?”

“I was with him tonight, not that it’s any of your business.”

My mouth drops open. I’m incredulous. “Are you kidding me? How is it not my business?”

“Since when is every friend I have your business?”

“Since that ‘friend’ is a guy I used to . . . to . . .”

Dad holds his hand up. “Stop right there,” he says, closing his eyes and cringing. “I don’t want you to finish that sentence.”

“I wasn’t going to say that, Dad!” I feel my face flame. “I just don’t quite know how to characterize our relationship.”

“Good. I might have to kill him if you’d said—”

It’s my turn to stop him. “Don’t say it, Dad. Why don’t you just tell me what you were doing with Jet so we can put this whole conversation behind us?”

“What if he doesn’t want you to know?”

Again, my mouth drops open. “Why would that matter? I’m your daughter!”

“I know that, hon,” he says kindly. “But I know how you are. I know how hard you can be sometimes.”

“What? When am I ever hard?”

“I’m not complaining, Vi. I’m just saying that you’ve had a lot of years of bad examples and it’s understandable that you’d have a tough shell by now. But sometimes, a parent has to do what he thinks is best for his daughter. Whether she approves or not.”

“And just what is it you think you’re doing for me?”

“Not me, per se.”

“Dad, just cut to the chase. Tell me what’s going on before I get mad.”

He watches me for several seconds, his eyes searching mine. “He’s been taking me to AA meetings for the past few weeks.”

Of all the things I might have dreamed, imagined, or even guessed that my father might say, his answer was nowhere in the mix.

I have only one response. “Why?”

“If you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a bit of a drinking problem.”

I eye him in warning. “Dad, you know that’s not what I meant.”

My father steps closer to me, winding his fingers around my upper arms. “Violet, that boy’s in love with you.”

My heart flutters in my chest. But then, just as quickly as it began, the weight of reality stops its excited movement and crushes it instead. “Sometimes that doesn’t make a difference, Dad. You know that.”

I see the pain flicker across his face. “Oh, you don’t have to tell me that, sweetheart.” He takes a deep breath. “Look, I don’t know what he’s done that’s so unforgiveable. I probably don’t even want to know. That’s why I’m staying out of it.”

“Going with him to AA meetings is hardly staying out of it, Dad.”

“If you hadn’t found out about it . . .”

“But I did. So tell me what’s going on.”

“He just wants to help you, Vi. Even if he can’t tell you he’s doing it, even if he can’t be with you, he wants to make your life better. And he knows how much my . . . problem bothers you. How much it affects your life. How much it always has. And I do, too,” he admits, casting his eyes down. “I never meant to hurt you, hon. I guess I just never thought of how my drinking impacted you. I only knew it gave me an escape when I needed one.” He falls silent, a long pause stretching between us. Finally, he looks up at me, his expression serious. Pained almost. “But he did, Violet. He knew how much it hurt you, and that’s why he wanted to help.

“He came to me while I was working at his father’s place and asked me if I’d go with him. Said he had some problems and that he’d hurt you because of them. He said that we both had a chance to make your life easier, better. I never really thought of it that way, never really thought of you as a reason to get cleaned up. But he did. He only saw what was best for you. And I should’ve, too. So I went with him.”

I pull free of my father’s grip. I walk to the sofa, standing over it rather than sitting down. I think back to all the tiny and not-so-tiny things, all the seemingly coincidental and not-so-coincidental things that have happened in the past weeks, and I realize that not everything Jet did was to get my attention. Had Tia not cancelled on me, had I not needed to keep busy, had I not parked around back, I might never have known that Jet was taking my father to AA. He wasn’t doing it to make a statement. Or to get credit. Or to win brownie points with me. He was doing it just for me. Seeking nothing more than my happiness, with or without him, he did it. Just for me.

My heart is crying out for me to act. It’s on fire for me to take the risk, to say to hell with the smart thing, to just go with my gut and give Jet another chance. It’s screaming at me, telling me that it’s not only the right, the forgiving and the mature thing to do, but it’s what I want to do. Desperately. Deep in my heart.

So I do.

Whirling around, I run for the door. I don’t know where Jet went or how I’ll find him, or really what I expect to find when I open the door; I just know that I have to move. To do. I have to go after him.

I hear my father’s voice as I jerk open the door.

“Where are you going?”

I don’t answer him; I just take off running down the walk to the street. It’s when I get there that I realize I have no shoes, no keys, no purse and my car is parked around back.