“Daddy, I’m a grown woman, you don’t have to call me princess anymore.” He smiles and waves his hand dismissively. Isn’t it an oxymoron—since I’m grown and call him Daddy like a child still? He loves it though.
“Please, you will always be my one and only little princess, so deal with it.” He pulls me into a bear hug, his cologne reminds me of my childhood, and almost instantaneously, my tears come back with a vengeance, pouring down my swollen face.
I hate this.
“Daddy…” He pulls back and cradles my face.
“Princess, what’s wrong?”
I guess I have no other option but to tell him about Trey now.
“I’m in love, and he’s both my happiness and my vice.”
“Oh boy. My little girl’s first love. Let’s go inside and have something to eat. Have you eaten lunch yet?”
Shaking my head, I reply, “I don’t think I can even stomach it.”
“Good news, princess. Heartbreak is never too painful for some alcohol.” I’m a blubbering mess, but that made me laugh.
“I’ll need an entire bottle.”
“Good, I have a whole bottle of your favorite rum. Stocked and ready just for you. Come on.” Leading me into the house, I lock my car and we make our way inside.
Once we both have a glass filled with rum, we settle in the front room. I remember decorating this room for him. I was almost sure the gold and black theme would be changed drastically after I left his house that day, but it hasn’t changed a bit, not even a little. I smile at the knowledge of this.
“You’ve been busy, I take it. Same with your brother. I haven’t seen or heard from you guys in weeks.” The guilt hits me, I’ve been so caught up in work and Trey that I’ve neglected my daughterly duties—my dad gets lonely easily.
“I’m sorry, Daddy, I’ve just been so caught up in work and this new relationship.”
“Stop there, you don’t need to explain, but you do need to tell me who this boy is.” My palms start to itch, from nerves, his excited smile soon to waiver, I’m sure. I put my drink down. Sitting up straight, I relieve the itch by rubbing my open palms against my jean-clad thighs. Here we go. Please love him, Daddy, because I love him too much to let go.
“So, you know…well, you’ve met…I mean you’re familiar with… I’m sorry.” This is harder to swallow than I thought.
“It’s okay, baby girl, tell me. I’m here to listen.”
“I’m dating Trey, Kingston’s best friend and mine, growing up.” My rushed answer squeezing out of my throat is followed by silence, eerie silence. Everyone else reacted pretty much the same, they all assumed it was only a matter of time until we got together, I hope that’s my dad’s theory.
“That foul-mouthed little deviant?” He looks at me with a renewed intention, like he wants me to answer him, but not really.
“Dad—”
Cutting me off, he continues, “The man who came here every damn day? The one who stopped you from dating that druggie back in high school? The man who showed up when you were stood up at prom? The only man who was able to get you out of your room and laugh after the divorce. That guy?”
I’m not sure where he’s going with this or what his questions are meaning, but I’m confused to what the hell is going on.
“Are those rhetorical questions? I’m confused.” Keeping myself busy, I take a swig of my rum the sweetness burning down my throat.
“No, I’m just confused as to why you hid this from me since Trey is a fine young gentleman, and he’s been a part of our family for how long? Besides, your mom hates him so even more reason for me to love him.” He winks at me. Relief floods every pore of my body, he scared me there for a minute.
“So, tell me why you’re so upset?” The house phone rings, interrupting my response. I watch my dad head toward the phone in the kitchen, sitting silently as I wait for his return. I hear his soothing voice answering to the person on the other line.
“Kings, calm down, she’s here. No. Yes. Okay, let me grab her.”
Oh crap. I should’ve told Kings where I was going. Crap. Cr
ap. Crap.
“Shayla. Your brother’s on the phone.” His expression is that of humor and fear. Fear for me, of course. My brother is my protector, and he doesn’t like it when I take off like this. I have a habit of running away from bad situations. Thanks to my mother. It gets aggravating at times being the youngest—his only little sister—he can be pretty overwhelming sometimes.