Dad was sitting on the porch when I pulled into the driveway. He had a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, but I didn’t see any empties beside his chair. He watched me as I got out of the car and walked up to the house, a wary and almost painfully expectant look on his face.
“Didn’t think you’d have the balls to come back here,” he said as I climbed the steps, a sneer settling onto his face as if he knew he needed to have it. “Run out of guys who you could fuck for a place to stay?”
I could only smile. I’d lost my fear of him. I also knew I wasn’t tied to him. Whether I stayed with Marcus or slept in my car, I knew I had options. “That’s not gonna work anymore. I don’t really care what you think of me. I know I’m not a loser.” I leaned against one of the porch supports and crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re the one who needs me.”
He scowled. “I got enough money to get by. I don’t need your know-it-all bullshit.”
“Cut the crap, Dad,” I said. “This isn’t about money, and you know it. You have no one. Just me. Who the hell you gonna turn to if I walk away from you forever?”
Anger flashed across his face and he stood, but I didn’t shift from where I was—simply continued to regard him with a calm that seemed to permeate every fiber of my being. It helped that I’d wolfed down another brainsicle on the way over so that I could be as sharp and aware as possible.
And as fast and strong as possible too, in case my charm and tact didn’t carry me through. I wasn’t going to let anyone smack me ever again. “The funny thing is that I still love you, Dad,” I said. “I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Thinking about the fact that it would kill me if anything bad happened to you and I could have done something about it.”
“I can take care of myself,” he said, voice rising.
“Is that what you want?” I asked, keeping my own voice deliberately low. “Do you want me out of your life?”
His hands unclenched, and his face seemed to sag. “No. God. I have . . . I. . . .” He swallowed. “When your mom. . . .”
“You had to choose between the two of us, and you chose me,” I said as I met his eyes. “And I know you probably regretted that choice a million times.”
Guilt flashed across his face. “It’s all right,” I said before he could try to deny it. “I didn’t exactly make it easy on you. I made a bunch of shit choices. I was a serious fuckup of a daughter.”
He slumped and shook his head. “No, you got it wrong. I coulda given you up to the state and kept your mom.” He ran his hands through his thinning hair. “But I knew she wasn’t right.” He tapped the side of his head. “She was fun and wild,” he went on, “but she couldn’t handle any sort of stress. Never shoulda been a mom. And you . . . you were my little Angelkins.” His voice caught, and he took a quick sip of beer to cover it. “But after she was gone I figured out that maybe I never shoulda been a dad.”
Emotion threatened to squeeze my heart right out of my chest as he lifted his watery eyes to mine. “I never regretted having them take your mom away,” he said. “But,” he took a shuddering breath. “Sometimes I regretted stayin’ on as your dad.” He looked away. “I’d think that if I’d let the state take you, then maybe you’d have ended up with folks who’d known how to rein you in and keep you straight and out of trouble.” He sighed. “I couldn’t. I couldn’t deal with it.”
I wasn’t sure I’d be able to speak around the big knot in my throat. “Maybe,” I managed to say. “Maybe not. But it doesn’t matter now. I’m clean, I got me a good job. . . .” I trailed off, then sighed and sat heavily on the porch steps. “I can’t take any credit for any of that shit, though. I got lucky. Someone helped me out when I needed it.” I dug my fingers through my hair and grimaced. “I came here thinking I was gonna be all like, ‘oh, you need to do rehab and stop drinking’ but that would be a bunch of hypocritical shit, because I sure as hell never had the guts to go through that.”
“I’ll do it,” he said quietly. “I’ll do rehab, counseling, whatever it takes. Is that what you want from me?” He looked at me, a painful hope in his eyes.
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. I mean, there was so much I wanted. This whole conversation could end up being a goddamned Hallmark Movie of the Week with us falling into each other’s arms and tearfully promising that everything was going to be wonderful now because he’d stop drinking and I’d be a devoted and supportive daughter. I knew damn good and well that nothing was as easy as that. If I hadn’t been zombified I probably never would have found the strength to stop doing the pills and hold down a job. I never had any desire to. Why the hell should I? I had no pride, no drive. I’d never been able to see a world beyond what I’d always known.>I regarded him for several seconds. “Was it a Bride-of-Frankenstein type of thing? The monster wanted a monster girlfriend?”
His eyes widened in shock, and it was all I could do to keep from bursting out laughing.
“No!” he exclaimed. “Oh, god, no. I never would have turned you for that. I swear! But you were dying, and that cocksucker had drugged you—”
“Marcus, it’s cool,” I said, grinning. “Look, dying was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
He visibly relaxed. “Okay. Yeah. Good. I mean, not good that you had to die, but, you know.”
“How long have you been one?” I asked. “I mean, Ed said the two of you had been friends since you were kids.” Then I scowled. “And yet he was still ready to kill you.”
He let out a soft sigh. “Yeah, Ed and I grew up together. About six years ago Ed and my uncle and I went out hunting, and we came across a family of raccoons. I was a dumbass and tried to catch one and got bit.”
I frowned. “I don’t get it. You became a zombie ’cause you got bit by a raccoon?”
A grim smile crossed his face. “No, I got rabies. Turns out that raccoons and bats are the big carriers of rabies in the U.S. And unless you get the shots within the first couple of days after a bite, it’s pretty much one hundred percent fatal. Once symptoms start appearing, it’s too late.”
“Rabies. Are you fucking serious?”
“Completely!”
I blinked. “Wow. I had no idea. That’s so weird. So, who turned you?”
“My Uncle Pietro. He felt responsible even though I was the dumbshit.” He gave a small smile. “One of his businesses is a funeral home down in Thibodeaux. He keeps me well-supplied with brains.”
“Wow,” I said again. I took a few seconds to digest everything he’d said. “There’s one thing I don’t understand.” Marcus looked at me expectantly, and I gave him my best suspicious look. “Why the hell was I naked when the ambulance showed up?”