THEA
Ipulled my hair into a ponytail like I was getting ready to go to battle. That was what it felt like. My brother and I were going to battle for my father’s future. We were going to fight to pull him out of Stacey’s clutches. I hoped he would listen to us, but a part of me knew the chances of him leaving that woman were slim to none.
I quickly filled the water bowl and unlocked the doggy door. “You guys please be good. Don’t bark. Don’t bug Mr. Wedge.”
Rich pulled into my driveway right on time. “Ready for this?” he asked.
“No. You?”
He smirked. “Nope, but I guess we have to do it.”
“Is she out of the house?” I asked.
“I don’t know. I hope so. Even if she’s there, we have to push ahead. We have to talk to him. We have to make him see reason.”
“I think we should appeal to his fatherly instincts,” I said. “We’ll beg him not to go. I’ll cry if I have to.”
He laughed and backed out of the driveway. We set off to Dad’s house, which was about thirty minutes away. Neither of us visited often. We used to, but with Stacey always around, it was hard to see our childhood home being destroyed.
“Oh my god,” I groaned when Rich pulled to a stop in front of the house.
The yard was overgrown, which was so unlike Dad. He always prided himself on a well-manicured lawn. The front porch used to be neat and tidy as well. Now, there was a large tomato sauce can filled with cigarette butts sitting next to a cracked and weathered lawn chair.
“If her goal is to sell this place and make a bunch of money, she’s failing,” Rich said. “It looks like a dump. I hope like hell the inside looks better than the outside.”
“Me too,” I said. “Me too. Good news is Stacey isn’t here.”
The car my dad was paying for was gone. Stacey had an old piece of shit when she met my dad. Being the protective man that he was, he offered to buy her a newer one. She totally took advantage of him and ended up convincing him to buy her a newer Toyota Camry while he drove around in his old Chevy truck. It was just another crime in a long list of crimes committed by the woman.
We knocked on the door. Normally, we would have knocked and then let ourselves in. We didn’t do that anymore. Not since Stacey pitched a fit and Dad sided with her a year ago. Dad answered the door with a bright smile on his face. “Come in, come in!”
He looked good. Better than he had in a while. “Hi, Dad,” I said and gave him a hug.
“You look tired,” he said.
“We were at a party last night,” I said.
“Aren’t you two a little old to be partying?” he asked.
“Not that kind of party,” I said with a laugh. “It was an opening party.”
“Ah, hanging out with the movers and shakers of the world. Come into the kitchen and have a seat. I made BLTs and lemonade.”
“I smell the bacon,” I said with feigned enthusiasm. I felt guilty for the ambush we were planning but it was for his own good.
It was difficult to see the house the way it was. A pair of leopard-print heels were tossed in the walkway. I kicked them out of the way with disgust. The smell of cigarette smoke was bad enough to make me cough. My father didn’t smoke. Never had. The stench of the cigarettes mingled with the cloyingly sweet smell of the nasty perfume Stacey wore. It smelled like something you would expect in a strip club. I didn’t understand how my father tolerated it.
We sat down at the table that was littered with bottles of nail polish and nail polish remover. Used cotton swabs were scattered around. Rich and I exchanged a look. There was no way I was going to eat a sandwich with that nastiness inches from my food. I grabbed a paper towel and used it to pick up the cotton swabs.
“Sorry about that,” Dad said. “Stacey was doing her nails before she left today. I didn’t get around to cleaning it up.”
I had to bite my tongue. I didn’t know why he would be expected to clean up her mess. Rich gave a slight shake of his head. I took a deep breath and sat at the table. Dad delivered a plate to each of us with one of his famous BLTs on thick-sliced bread. I missed these sandwiches. It used to be our thing before Stacey dropped into our lives.
I poured us each a glass of lemonade from the pitcher. Dad sat down, and for a brief moment, it felt like old times. If I closed my eyes and turned off my olfactory sense, I could almost believe it was the good old days.
“This is amazing,” Rich said. “Damn, you know how to make a sandwich.”
Dad was smiling. This was him happy. I missed seeing him truly happy. I didn’t want to ruin the mood by bringing up the moving situation. I hoped Rich would give us just a few more precious minutes. I knew we had to hurry and get to the conversation before Stacey reappeared.