Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58342 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
She shrugs. “I’ve been thinking about him more since we’ve been here. He took me and Dalton on fishing and hunting trips. He dreamed of going to Alaska one day to fish for salmon.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but was he sick, or did you lose him unexpectedly?”
“Kind of both. He was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and he was gone less than a month later.”
“Damn, I’m sorry.”
She meets my gaze across the table. “You would’ve liked him. He never got frustrated with us, and if you knew how many times I got my fishing line tangled and he had to cut it and fix it, you’d be impressed by that.”
“What was his name?”
“Mario.” She picks up a hazelnut and puts it in her mouth. “Does Dalton talk about him?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard him mention him. He talks about your mom, though.”
Her eyes tear up at my mention of her mom.
“Our dad was Dalton’s hero. He took his death really hard.” She forces a smile. “What about your dad? Unless you don’t want to say anything.”
I sit up straighter and roll my shoulders, thoughts of my dad making me tense up. I’ve told Trinity so much about myself, but my father is a subject that’s hard for me to even think about.
“He, uh...left when I was ten.” I scrub a hand down my face. “I mean, I thought he left.”
She eats the food on her plate, letting me take time before I continue.
“My mom moved us from San Diego to Columbus and it was...sudden. She said Dad had a girlfriend and wanted to have a new family with her and her kids. And that we couldn’t afford to live in San Diego anymore. We moved into a shitty little apartment and she got a job bartending. She told me and my sister that our dad never gave her a dime. Never tried to see us. I wouldn’t have been able to keep playing hockey if not for scholarship programs.”
I sigh heavily and look away.
Trinity covers my hand with hers. “You don’t have to say anymore.”
“No, I don’t mind. My mom wasn’t all bad. I don’t mean to make it sound that way. She was a good mom and we loved her. But at her funeral, her sister told me she thought I deserved to know the truth, which was that my dad did ask for a divorce, but he never said he didn’t want anything to do with me and my sister. He did pay child support and he tried to see us, but my mom wouldn’t have it. She was so hurt that she hurt him back in the only way she could.”
Trinity’s lips turn down at the corners in a frown. “That’s...I don’t even know what to say.”
“Yeah. I told myself at first that he must not have tried very hard, but when we were cleaning out Mom’s house, I found all the birthday and Christmas cards and letters Dad had sent us. Just having those as a kid--” I stop talking, fighting a lump of emotion in my throat. “It would have meant a lot. To know my dad loved me. I wondered for all those years how he could just stop loving me.”
“Have you ever tried to get in touch with him?”
I shake my head, shame washing over me. “I looked him up. He lives in Phoenix. Has a wife and another daughter. I thought about reaching out, but...I never did. And then our plane crashed and I thought I’d die without ever making things right with him.”
She gets up and comes over to me, bending to hug me. The ends of her soft hair brush over my neck. “I’m so sorry. That’s a heavy burden.”
I rest my cheek against her chest. “When we make it back, I’m going to call him. I don’t even know what I’ll say, but...”
She cups my face in her hands. “You’ll know. When the time comes, the words will--”
A sound makes us both turn. When I see the front door moving, I realize the sound is someone opening it. I jump up from my chair to stand in front of Trin as a tall, twentysomething man walks inside and sees us.
“Are you fucking serious? Squatters?” He grabs a can of bear spray from a pocket in his cargo pants and points it at me. “I’ll use this if I have to! You’re trespassing.”
I put a palm out to assure him I mean no harm. “Slow down, man. Don’t fucking bear spray me. We were in a plane crash and we took shelter here. There weren’t any other places to go. I’ve got the money to pay for everything we’ve used.”
He pulls off a brown stocking cap and stuffs it into his pants, running his hand through unruly brown curly hair and glancing out the open doorway. “Cheri, there are squatters in here. Call the boss.”