She stares back at me, clearly not sure what to do with any of that. I’m not either, and eventually she picks up her fork again. “My math teacher said she’ll let me re-take the last test if I turn in all my missing homework,” she mutters, pushing waffles around her plate.
“Good.” I pull the envelope and pen toward me. “Let’s look at it together tonight.”
I scribble my name on the line marked Parent or Guardian and slide it back to her.
“You’re not my real guardian anyway.”
Naomi’s words grate on me as I drive to rehearsal. I’m early today, having had no desire to sit at home in the dark after I dropped her off at school. She was just trying to hurt me with that comment, but there’s an uncomfortable truth buried in there. I’m not her legal guardian. What if something comes up in school that requires more than a half-assed signature? What if I had to set up an account for her or put her on my health insurance? Hell, does she even have health insurance? God forbid something happens to her and someone has to be responsible for her medical care.
Fuck.
I shove a hand in my hair as I pull into the lot of the studio building. I’d been avoiding this confrontation for weeks now, only half-heartedly reaching out to my brother-in-law with cursory attempts to connect. Honestly, I’d been too angry to deal with him. And now? Maybe my hesitation is more than that. Maybe… I shudder, not even wanting to consider the thought of losing Naomi.
But he’s a necessary evil. Like it or not, Allan Hayes is still the father of the little girl I’m starting to need in my life.
After putting my car in park, I pull out my phone and stare at the blank screen for a long time. Memories of his weaselly face flicker through my head. Him standing in my open doorway, abandoning his kid without so much as a goodbye and flat-out lying to my face about it. He doesn’t deserve a sliver of consideration from us, but if I have any hope of saving Naomi from her hellhole, I need to jump in and pull her out.
I scroll to Allan’s number and try again for the eleventh time. He hasn’t answered the last ten times I’ve called. My texts and social media messages have gone ignored as well. I’d think he was dead if not for the “read” confirmation on my messages and the garbage scattered around the trailer when I broke in two weeks ago to get more of Naomi’s stuff. He hadn’t been there of course. Or maybe he had and was buried under the mounds of debris.
“Hello?” a groggy voice answers.
“Allan, it’s Julian.” My pulse picks up. Stay calm. You need him. Do this for Naomi.
“Jul… ah shit,” he grumbles, awareness settling in. Guess he was too fucked up to read his caller ID this time.
“Remember me?” I ask.
“What do you want?” he slurs out. “It’s not even nine yet.”
“Your daughter is fucking fine, by the way,” I snap. Shit. Calm down, Julian.
He’s quiet on the other end, and I pull in a soothing breath.
“Look, she really is fine. She can stay with me, but for this to work I need some stuff.”
“What? Like money?”
God, I wish I could send my fist through the phone right now. “No, not money,” I force out, my fingers tightening around the phone. “Documents. Her birth certificate, social security card, insurance information, shit like that.”
“Oh. Yeah.”
I have zero confidence any of this is registering.
Then: “I want to see her.”
I stagger in my seat, his statement a straight punch to the gut. “Excuse me?”
“I want to see her. Just for a minute.”
“No fucking way.”
“You want the papers, you let me see my daughter,” he says, his voice still garbled like he’s definitely hopped-up on something.
“She is not your daughter. She won’t be your daughter until you clean yourself up and get your shit together.”
After another pause, his labored breathing breaks the silence.
“Tomorrow night. Cathy’s Café. Seven o’clock. I’ll have the papers, and you bring her.”
Fuck! My hand flies into my hair as I pull until it burns. Then I pull harder. No way I can do that to Naomi. No fucking way I’d ask her to face him again after what he’s done. But I need those documents to have a prayer at setting up a real life for her. I should have just ransacked the trailer to find them when I was there for her clothes. He wouldn’t even have noticed. Too bad I was still a clueless idiot back then.
“Fine,” I grunt out. “Ten minutes.”
“Twenty.”
“Fifteen, and you show up showered and sober or we’re out.”
I have nothing left by the time I leave my car and grab my cases. Leave it to Allan Hayes to destroy multiple lives with one phone call.
Am I really going to ask Naomi to confront her dad? We’re just starting to make progress. That smile I suspected was in there somewhere has just begun to peek out on more regular intervals, and bam. Another massive crash into an invisible brick wall. But what choice do I have? As usual, I get to pick between bad and really fucking bad.
Despite my delay in the parking lot, I’m still the first to enter our studio. Drained, I start setting up, hoping the music can do what I need it to do today—calm my storm. This fury building inside me will have to escape somehow, and I have too much at stake to release it the way I used to. Parties and women aren’t an option anymore, and honestly, there’s nothing I miss from those days. The wild nights were emptier than the sluggish days. Naomi and Hadley are the first things in my life that have substance.
Hadley… shit!
In all the drama with Naomi and Allan, I hadn’t given any serious thought to how I’m going to handle that minefield when I see her. And I have no time to figure it out, either. I couldn’t be in a worse mood when Viv and the girl I’m falling for come laughing into the studio. Good to know someone’s world didn’t blow up this morning.
“Hey, Julian! You’re early,” Viv calls out.
“Yep.” I force a tight smile as I shove the quarter inch cable into my guitar and kick the tuner on my pedal board.
“Late night?” she asks, breaching my line of sight so I’m forced to acknowledge her.
“Something like that.” My gaze flickers to Hadley who is staring at me expectantly. “Hey,” I say to her before returning to my guitar.
I sense her stiffen and kick myself. Clearly, that wasn’t the right response.
“Hey,” she echoes sarcastically. She waits another second, and I stare back in confusion. What exactly does she want? A public announcement that we slept together? A parade?
I can’t think straight right now. Fucking Allan and his bullshit drama ruining my brain, my life, my one chance with an amazing girl. As much as I care about Hadley, all I can process is that gnawing pain in my gut as the countdown begins to tomorrow night. My messed up love life will just have to deal for the time-being.
It doesn’t matter. She’s already in her chair, glowering at her laptop like Naomi scowls at me every chance she gets. At least I’m consistent when it comes to the ladies.
“You sure you’re okay?” Viv asks, her face melting with concern.