Dad. Daddy? What would he call me if given a choice? I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, emotions are running rampant inside me. It’s all I can do to even my voice when I answer.
“Troy.”
“See ya, Troy.” I look after him as he shuts the
door, aching to bridge the distance and study him up close. A gnawing in my gut keeps me from taking a single step because I know I’ll be denied that privilege as I have been for the whole of his life.
When I’m sure he’s at a safe distance away from the door, I take the few steps up the porch toward Clarissa, who’s glaring at me with tears in her eyes.
“What are you doing?”
I hold my hands up with a, ‘please, just hear me out.’ I bend down and start gathering her scattered groceries. The acid in her voice above me is exactly what I expected.
“I told you never to come near us. I meant it. You know I meant it.”
I lift the tattered sack once I’ve gathered everything salvageable. “I just want him to know me. I just want to know him.”
She gapes at the box I left on the steps behind me at the neighboring house. “You moved in next door?”
“I just want to keep an eye on him. He’s my—”
“Don’t,” she hisses, “don’t you dare say it. You can’t just show up and claim parental rights.”
“That’s not the truth of it, though, is it? I know you’ve seen me. I’ve seen you see me. I’m done pretending, Clarissa. If you move again, I’ll follow. You move then, I’ll do the same. I’m not going anywhere. It’s time we met. Past time. And I have to know him,” I choke on my words because it’s hard enough looking at her knowing she hates me and my chances of making this work are slim to none, but I have to try. “For him, please,” I ask, looking up, my eyes pleading with hers.
She crosses her arms and shakes her head. “He’s missed nothing.”
“You don’t know that.”
She rips the bag from my grip. “No.”
I shove my hands in my pockets and toe a loose wood board on the porch. “I’ve been doing more than watching, and you know it. You won’t take my money, why?” I look up to see she’s still got tears in her eyes and hate the sight of it. It’s understandable she’s scared. At the moment, I feel every part the villain her stare accuses me of being.
“I don’t need your money.”
“You have needed it, plenty.”
“I don’t want to have anything to do with you, Troy. Dante doesn’t need an adolescent and conniving liar for a father.”
“I’m almost twenty-four, Clarissa. I’m not that kid anymore.”
Her eyes rake me up and down, and I can’t help my smirk when they pause at my crotch before lifting back to mine. She’s nowhere near as amused.
“Move out.”
“No.”
“You can’t just do this.”
“Then tell me how. Tell me how to get through to him. Because I want to be a part of his life. You can’t keep me from him forever.”
“The hell I can’t.”
“I have rights.”
Her face visibly pales. “You lost any rights you had when you lied and put both of us in jeopardy, and when I say us, I mean him and me, not you.”
“Legally, that’s not true. I have rights.”