I didn’t tell my dad about the rest stop because I didn’t want him to worry. I was probably just being paranoid. But after that, all I wanted was to get to my dad’s house and put as many miles as I could between me and New York.
“I know, Dad, but I just wanted to get here.”
“I’m glad you made it here safely. Let’s go inside so you can get settled and rest.” He puts his arm around my shoulder, taking me with him.
In the house, I’m surprised that everything looks like it’s straight out of a magazine. By the front door is a long, black table with a bowl filled with keys and coins. The wood floors are so dark; they almost look black.
Walking down the hallway, we enter a room with the tallest ceiling I’ve ever seen. The beams going across the room are the same color as the wood floors. There is a wall of windows from one side of the room to the other. The kitchen is open to the living room with an island in the center that is as big as a dining table with five stools in front of it. The appliances in the kitchen all look new and unused. The countertops are a light granite with brown and red streaming through them. In the living room, there’s a leather couch that looks more like a bed with a low back.
The entertainment center is built into the wall and two leather recliners sit on either side of the low couch. The throw pillows and blankets on the back of the couch match the granite in the kitchen. All the colors in the room blend perfectly together. Everywhere I turn, I see caramel, dark brown, and red.
“Wow, Dad, this is beautiful.”
“Thanks, baby. Your grandmother decorated it.”
“Grandmother?” I ask.
“Yeah. She can’t wait to meet you. I know we haven’t talked about my family much, but they all know about you and are excited to get to know you.”
“Awesome,” I whisper, still in shock that my mom took me when I was a baby. She never talked about my dad at all. I never even knew who he was until I turned eighteen and he tracked me down. Every time he has come to New York to visit, he never talked about his family and I never asked. I figured his story was the same as my mom’s. Her parents died before I could meet them and she didn’t have any brothers or sisters.
My mom has always been a loner unless you have something she wants. Then, she will attach herself to you like a life-sucking parasite.
“Everyone will be here for breakfast. They wanted to come tonight but I thought you might get overwhelmed on your first night home. Also, we need to talk about you doing the books for the club. Your degree will help me get the office straightened out. I don’t have a lot of time to manage that part of the business. Lynn moved away with her husband and I haven’t had a chance to replace her.”
“When do I start?” I say, smiling.
“Well, tonight I want you to rest.” He squeezes my shoulder. “And for the rest of the week, I want you to recover. After you’re feeling up to it, I’ll take you down to the club and show you the office. Hopefully, you can set something up so you can work from home.”
“Sounds good to me.” Walking through the kitchen, there’s a set of stairs going down to the basement. “Wow, Dad, I thought you loved me and now you’re taking me to the dungeon.”
Laughing, he shakes his head. “No. There’s a basement apartment. Your grandma and everyone else came over and worked on it all day yesterday. They rushed over as soon as they found out you’d be staying with me. It also has its own entrance so you can have some privacy.” He flips on the light.
“It’s perfect.” There’s a small living room and kitchen when you first walk in. He leads me down a short hall and opens a door. The bedroom is huge and there’s also an en-suite. I’m so overwhelmed that I start crying.
“It’s okay,” Dad says while dragging me into his body for a hug. “We just want you to be happy here.”
“This is so nice. I can’t even tell you how happy I am,” I say into his shirt, giving him a squeeze. It’s the truth. I have never seen a more perfect space. It’s amazing that this is someplace to call my own.
“Well, I’m gonna go unpack your car while you get some sleep,” he says, kissing my forehead. He turns to leave, then stops and looks at me over his shoulder. “I’m really happy you’re here, November. I can’t even tell you how happy this makes me.” With that, he’s gone. Leaving me to think about how different my life could have been.
Waking up in the morning to the smell of coffee and the sound of voices above me, I climb out of bed. After I shower, I put on a pair of my favorite jeans. They are so dark; they’re almost black and look good with an off-the-shoulder lavender sweater and dark brown riding boots. I blow out my hair and tie it into a ponytail that hits the middle of my back. I put on some makeup to try to conceal the bruises that are now starting to turn green. With a little mascara, some bronzer, and blush, I make my way upstairs. Beast is sitting at the island next to a woman with the same hair as my dad. When she sees me, she jumps off the stool and runs to me, pulling me into a tight hug.