“I admit…I invited you over because of what you shared with me. But I know what it’s like to lose a parent at a young age, and I thought we could spend the day together—since we both don’t have fathers to honor.”
I was silent, still speechless.
When I didn’t say anything, he continued. “The invitation is always open…if you ever change your mind.”
“I appreciate that. But since I’m Daisy’s boss, I don’t think it’d be a good idea. And I’d rather her not know personal stuff about me. Don’t want her to start being nice to me just because she feels bad for me.”
“Of course. I would never share that information unless I had your explicit permission.”
“Okay.”
“How about it just be the two of us, then? Breakfast.”
I didn’t see the harm in it, so I agreed. “Sure.”
9
Daisy
“All I need is one more baby, and I’ll have a basketball team.” I watched Little Deacon and Cam play with their toys at the coffee table while Ryan watched them. His little brother, Jeffrey, was in the sling in front of Sicily’s chest, wrapped warmly in his clothing.
Dex looked at Sicily and waggled his eyebrows.
Sicily rocked Jeffrey from side to side and shook her head dramatically. “Don’t even think about it.”
I turned to Derek. “No Lizzie?”
“No.” He gave a sigh before he popped a chip into his mouth. “She’s doing a summer program, and it’s too far away for a short trip. But I got a card in the mail and a phone call this morning.”
“That’s sweet.” I rubbed his back.
Mom finished clearing the plates off the dining table and put out the cake. “Alright, who wants a slice?”
“Mom, come on,” Dex said. “You know better.”
Emerson raised her hand. “And I’ll take two.”
Dad came out of the kitchen and sat on the other side of me on the couch. “None for me.”
I nudged him in the side. “Dad, come on. It’s your day.”
He shook his head. “Not a fan of cake.”
I gave him a wide-eyed look. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re my real dad.”
“I wondered the same thing…knowing my daughter smokes cigars.”
I stilled, my eyes wide like a deer in the headlights. “Shit.”
“Yes,” my dad said. “Shit.”
Derek excused himself and joined Emerson on the other couch.
“You watched the tournament?” I asked.
“Why are you smoking cigars?” He rounded on me, reminding me of the disciplinarian I’d had when I was little. That version of him had disappeared a long time ago because Dex and I were well-behaved growing up. But this was giving me an instant flashback.
“I don’t smoke them regularly—”
“Why are you smoking them at all? You know how I feel about this.”
Mom came over and set a piece of cake on the table in front of me before she placed her hand on my father’s shoulder. “Deacon, she’s an adult now.”
“Irrelevant.” His angry eyes never left my face. “A cigar is the equivalent of seven cigarettes. Are you smoking seven cigarettes every weekend? That equals one cigarette a day. By definition, you’re a smoker. Unacceptable.”
“I don’t do it every weekend—”
“You don’t do it at all. That’s the point.”
Mom rubbed his back. “Deacon, this isn’t the right time—”
“It is the right time. I want you to promise me that was your last cigar. Now.”
Geez, I hadn’t seen him this way in a long time. “I’m sorry—”
“Not looking for an apology. Looking for a promise.”
“Fine, I promise.”
He finally turned away and let it go, the hostility still around him.
“I said I would promise. Why are you still mad at me?”
He came back, his eyes cold. “Maybe because I’m an oncologist who sees lung cancer every goddamn day. Maybe because my father died from lung cancer because he smoked his entire life. Happy Father’s Day…” He got up and excused himself from the living room. He went down the hallway and disappeared.
Everyone was quiet, all staring at me.
Dex ate his cake like he didn’t know what to do.
Derek looked down at the floor, as if it was too awkward to make eye contact with me.
Bear, the black lab, followed Dad a moment later, his collar jingling as he moved down the hallway.
Mom took the spot where Dad had been sitting a moment ago and rubbed my back. “Just give him a few minutes to cool off.”
“I feel so bad…”
“It’s okay, Daisy. Your father is just…really intense about certain things.”
“I didn’t expect him to watch the game.”
She continued to rub my back, being the good cop when my dad was the bad one. “You shouldn’t be smoking, whether you’re being watched or not. You’re young and having a good time, I understand that. But again, your dad …feels strongly about certain things.”
I stepped into his office, seeing him behind his desk, Bear under it at my dad’s feet, stuck to his side like glue.
Dad continued to stare at his monitor and ignore me.