The most embarrassing part was that she announced to her co-workers that she’d be meeting her dad today, like some moon eyed kid who was too naïve to know when she wasn’t wanted. Maybe they wouldn’t ask. Maybe she should just show up for her usual shift. Then they’d know nothing monumental had held her up, and not feel the need to ask about why she was not only on time but also early for work when she already asked them to cover her shift. Pathetic.
Well, she needed to study anyway. If her absentee father had taught her anything, it was to only depend on herself. And right now her future was hanging by a thread if she didn’t buckle down and memorize the last few chapter notes of her unit.
On the drive to her apartment she fought back tears. No matter how old she got, her dad would always be her Achilles heel. The mere idea of the first man to reject her left a primal wound she’d bear for life. Even now, her fear of his rejection could be paralyzing. Pretty impressive impact for a guy she’d never met.
She needed to stop doing this to herself. Since her mom passed away, the yearning to belong to someone had taken a front seat in her thoughts. Her father was the least likely solution to her problems and could never replace her mother. But it seemed utterly wrong to be twenty-three and not have any living family left.
It sucked that no matter how much she told herself that blood was thicker than water, that was just some cliché bullshit. She still longed to know the dickhead who stood her up time and time again.
Her hands slapped the steering wheel as she made the turn into her apartment complex. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
She didn’t need someone who didn’t want her. She was an adult. It wasn’t like she was looking for guardianship. Just a fucking connection. If that was too intense for him maybe she was better off alone. No maybe. Definitely.
“Forget him.”
As she opened the door to her apartment, boxes from her old home greeted her with things she no longer needed but couldn’t bear to let go. She accepted this might be some crucial step in her therapy—therapy she couldn’t afford, of course. But hey, she watched daytime talk shows. Grief was a process and she was only in the early stages.
Those boxes served as a constant reminder that this was only a pit stop. If she’d spent time unpacking them, it would imply she’d been content to stay, which she wasn’t. All those little mementos of her childhood deserved a better home, a permanent place to call her own. And she deserved that, too. Once she finished school, got her degree, found a better job, she’d put down roots in a nicer area and...
She cracked open a beer. And what?
While she hated wasting her tears on a man who never showed any interest in her, she also hated the all-consuming loneliness that had been eating at her lately. Truth was, she had no plans and the wind in her sails faded more and more each day. What if she sputtered out after graduation and got stuck here? No compass, no paddle, just stuck. It was a good possibility, despite her absolute fear of such an outcome.
Her phone pinged. Kyle’s text, asking if her father showed flashed on the screen. She tossed the phone on the counter and chugged the beer.
It was sweet that Kyle recognized what a big deal this was for her, but also humiliating to have others, once again, witness her father’s disinterest. Kyle had been around for the last attempted meet and greet. And that one ended with a bucket of tears and tequila—and one regrettable moment of weakness where she asked him to spend the night.
Luckily, neither of them had been sober enough to remember what happened, but that launched them into this strange friendzone where she suspected he wanted a repeat and she wanted oblivion. Kyle was her friend and one of the only constants in her life since her mom died. She didn’t want to screw that up.
Friends check in.
Nibbling her lip and trading her empty bottle for a fresh beer, she contemplated if company would be better than finishing the night alone. She grabbed her phone and called the bar.
“Jimbo’s,” Kyle answered the bar phone on the second ring.
“Hey.”
The familiar sounds of her work muffled through the phone and there was a long pause. “Should I lift a bottle of Patron for later? I knock off at two.”
She slid down the front of the refrigerator and sat on the floor. “I’d love to, but...” The but was there before she understood the rationale behind her refusal. “I have a lab tomorrow and I need to read about six chapters tonight to prepare.”