Crave Me (The Good Ol' Boys #4)(7)

Did they not understand how much I needed that doll? She didn't know what she was talking about. I didn't have any like her. It was so unfair.

Ken didn’t want to be with plain Barbie anymore, he wanted to be with Sparkle Barbie. She was ruining all my plans for the wedding of the year, a huge, purple, beautiful wedding. I crossed my arms and sulked the entire way through the store as she placed one stupid item after another in the cart.

Why did she get a book and I got nothing? Why couldn’t she just not buy broccoli and get me my doll? I hated broccoli, even Daddy hated broccoli. Stupid Mom. Stupid broccoli.

She never let me buy what I wanted. Daddy never told me no. Sometimes I wished she wasn’t around. That it was just my daddy and me. Life would be so much better if it was just the two of us, then Mommy couldn’t tell me what I could and couldn’t have. My daddy and I don’t need a mommy. We would do fine without her.

I watched him pull out a wad of cash to pay for our groceries. There was a lot of money; we could have definitely bought my doll. She was just being mean.

“Daddy, please…” I pleaded, tugging on the ends of his shirt.

“Baby, we can talk about it later. I have to go. Daddy is running late for a meeting. You don’t want me getting into trouble, do you?”

I could see it in his eyes, he wanted to say yes, but Mommy cocked her head to the side as if she was testing him. He looked down at me and shook his head no. He grabbed my hand as we walked out to the car, but I didn’t want to leave, I wanted my doll.

“Daddy, please,” I tried again.

“Daisy, ya no más!” Mom scolded in Spanish, “Daisy, no more.” I narrowed my eyes at her, giving her my angry face.

He buckled me into my booster in the backseat of his car. I hated that thing; I was a big girl. Daddy told me so all the time. I didn’t need to sit in a baby seat. I was six years old, but my mom said that I was still under the weight and height, so by law, I still had to ride in one. I think she was lying, there was no law—she just wanted me to sit in one. Daddy gave me a kiss on the forehead and told me he loved me and closed the door.

He rounded the corner of the car and gave Mommy a kiss on the lips, telling her he loved her before he got into the passenger seat. I didn’t want to sit behind Mommy, I wanted to sit behind Daddy. I kicked the back of her seat before she got in the car.

Daddy looked down at his watch after Mommy started driving.

“There’s no way I’m going to make this meeting.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Michael. I know how important this meeting was for you.”

Her car had died on our way to the grocery store, so she called Daddy to come rescue us.

“It’s my fault. I should’ve taken it in weeks ago. I’ve been so busy with this merger. I haven’t had time for anything else. It’s fine, I gave the tow truck driver our mechanic’s address.” He grabbed his phone and dialed a number. “Lesley, put me through to the board.”

“Michael, where are you?” I heard someone say through the phone.

“I’m sorry, Dale. My wife’s car broke down and I had to pick them up. I can—”

“Can you still make it?”

Mom looked over at him, nodding. Making a sharp turn that caused my body jolt to the right.

“Yes, I’m on my way now. In the meantime, let me bring you up to date on the building codes,” he began.

“Mommy, I want to stay up and wait for Daddy to come home,” I said, knowing he would have to go back to work.

“Daisy, why don’t you ever make it easy on me? Huh? You know you can’t wait up for Daddy. You have school in the morning. We will eat dinner and do bath time—”

“I don’t want a bath. I want to take a shower,” I interjected, gritting my teeth.

“Damn it, it’s starting to pour.” Mom ignored my comment.

Dad pressed a button and some lights came on.

“No, baby, bath time is easier on me,” she added. “Por favor ya no me contestes así, Please don’t talk to me like that anymore.”

“Yes, Dale. The figures need to match the proposal,” Dad kept on talking, ignoring us both.

“But I don’t want a bath.” I kicked my leg against the booster seat, hitting the back of hers. She gave me a warning look through the rearview mirror.

Why couldn’t she let me do what I wanted? I was a big girl. What was her problem? A bath and a shower were the same. They both got me clean. I stared out the window. I could barely make out the trees as we passed them. It really started to pour, and I could hear the drops coming down hard on the car.

“Oye, ni?a, quedate quieta,” she ordered, “Hey, little girl, quiet down. You will get a bath,” she sternly stated. “Is that a red light? Fuck, I can’t see.”

“Ooohhh! You said a bad word. Daddy, she’s in trouble!”

“Daisy, enough!” Dad yelled at me, placing his hand over the phone.

Now they were both making me mad.

“No! I want a shower! I don’t want a bath! I'm not a baby! I don’t want one! I want a shower! I don’t want a bath!” I screamed, kicking my leg against the booster seat over and over again, my feet slamming into the back of Mom’s seat.

“Daisy Julissa Mitchell Martinez!” she roared in Spanish. “I swear if you say one more word…”