Wild Tendy (IceCats 2)

“I am appalled, Aviva. How dare you accuse me of this?”

“I know it was you.” Damn it, I’m gonna cry. “And know this—this is the last straw. You come around me, or even Callie, I’ll call the police.”

“For what? Seeing my daughters? Be real, Aviva. You have nothing on me, which is why you haven’t called the cops. No cameras or witnesses.”

“How do you know that?”

“’Cause I know you can’t afford it,” he says bluntly, and my blood boils as traitorous tears fall down my face. He’s admitting to it without admitting. What a bastard. This man is not my father. My father was kind. He was a great guy. He loved us. He loved himself, and he would never do this to us. This man…I don’t know. One thing is for sure, though.

“I hate you,” I sneer as I blink through my tears.

The line goes dead, and I let my head fall to the counter with a thud. It hurts, but not as bad as the sob that racks my body. I feel it everywhere. I don’t understand how a man, a father, could do this to his children. Especially after everything I’ve done. I’ve kept Callie and myself alive through everything. I tried to help him. Tried to get him help, but he didn’t want it. Oxycodone and alcohol were and are more important than us.

I want to blame it all on the cancer, but the cancer didn’t make my dad take my mom’s pills. He did that on his own. To cope with what was happening. What the hell did I get to help me cope? Nothing. I was the strong one. Hell, I still am. And damn if it isn’t hard as fuck. I have no choice, though. I’ve got to keep Callie stable. She is going to do great things, and I can’t let the burdens that keep weighing on me affect her.

I swallow hard as I sit up, wiping my face free of tears. He doesn’t get my tears. He already took enough. And hell, I can’t change him. He is on his own; he is no longer my father. That may be a bit harder for Callie since they used to be so close. While I was close to my mom, Callie was close to Dad. They were two peas in a pod, so I know this won’t go over well. But we’ll be okay. We’ve always been okay.

When my phone rings, I see it’s my landlord returning my call. “Dusty, how’s it going?”

“Good, Aviva. How are you?”

“Living my best life. Listen, my dad broke in last night and stole all my money—”

“You’re still paying me, though?”

“Yeah, I have that. Focus, Dusty. I need to get him off the lease so if this happens again, I can call the cops on him for trespassing. Please help me.”

“I’ll need his signature to do that.”

I roll my eyes. “You didn’t need it to put me on the lease, and you sure as hell didn’t need it for me to pay you monthly. Would you like to go after him from now on?”

I’m met with silence, and I find myself crossing my fingers. It’s silly, but my mom always used to do it. “Let me call my dad,” he says finally.

“Ugh! No. Dusty Senior hates me.”

“He doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t like how hostile you get.”

“I wouldn’t get hostile if he hadn’t raised my rent when he knew damn well I had just lost my mom!” I’m not going to make it. My blood pressure is through the roof, and I’m pretty sure I’m about to stroke out. “Please, Dusty. I need to make this happen.”

“Let me call him. I’ll call you back.”

The line goes dead before I can ask him otherwise. I drop my phone to the counter and let out a shout.

Could my day get any worse?

When my laptop sounds with an email, I see that it’s from Dominica. The subject is, The payment schedule you requested.

Of course it can.

Fantastic.

I open the email to find prices I wasn’t expecting. Leotards, warm-ups, and meet fees, oh my! I’m not gonna make it. I feel the stroke coming. At the end of the email, she tells me they don’t mind helping me out. I just can’t seem to allow her to. I’ll figure it out. Maybe I can sell some stuff. Or maybe I’ll win the lottery. Gotta buy a lottery ticket for that, though. I can buy one when I go out for the mayonnaise.

Oh my God, I forgot to get the mayo!

I glance at the clock, and I only have thirty minutes to get to the store and back before we open. Man, life is really coming for me today. I slam my laptop shut, but then because I’m worried, I reopen it to make sure I didn’t crack it. When I find I didn’t, I shut it again, a little more gently, and rush out with my keys, throwing my phone into my purse. I get into my Kia and head toward the store. My mind is going a million miles a minute. I have so much to do today along with running the shop. I’m gonna have to pull money out of Callie’s savings account, and that alone has me almost in tears. That money was for college and her boob job. I’ll put it back; I always do.