Reflected in You(94)

He knew I couldn't afford the place on my own.


He knew my mother's husband was providing for me in ways he would never be able to.


And I wondered if he thought about my mother, and how what she needed was also beyond his means.


"The security here is really tight," I told him by way of explanation.


"It's impossible to get past the front desk if you're not on the list and a resident can't be reached to vouch for you."


My dad exhaled in a rush.


"That's good."


"Yeah.


I don't think Mom could sleep at night otherwise."


That made some of the tension leave his shoulders.


"Let me show you to your room."


I led him down the hallway to the guest room suite.


It had its own bathroom and mini-bar with fridge.


I saw him noting those things before he dropped his duffel on the king-size bed.


"Are you tired?" He looked at me.


"I know you are.


And you have to work today, don't you? Why don't we nap for a bit before you have to get up?" I stifled a yawn and nodded, knowing I could use the couple of hours of shut-eye.


"Sounds good."


"Wake me when you're up," he said, rolling his shoulders back.


"I'll make the coffee while you're getting ready."


"Awesome."


My voice came husky with suppressed tears.


Gideon almost always had coffee waiting for me on days when he'd spent the night, because he got up before me.


I missed that little ritual of ours.


Somehow, I'd have to learn to live without it.


Pushing up onto my tiptoes, I kissed my dad's cheek.


"I'm so glad you're here, Daddy."


I closed my eyes and clung tightly when he hugged me.


* * *


I stepped out of the small market with my bags of grocery ingredients for dinner and frowned at finding Angus idling at the curb.


I'd refused a ride in the morning and again when I'd left the Crossfire, and he was still following and shadowing.


It was ridiculous.


I couldn't help but wonder if Gideon didn't want me as a girlfriend anymore, but his neurotic lust for my body meant that he didn't want anyone else to have me - namely Brett.


As I walked home, I entertained thoughts of having Brett over for dinner instead, imagining Angus having to make that call to Gideon when Brett came strolling up to my place.


It was just a quick vengeful fantasy, since I wouldn't lead Brett on that way and he was in Florida anyway, but it did the trick.


My step lightened and when I entered my apartment, I was in my first really good mood in days.I dumped all the dinner stuff off in the kitchen, then went to find my dad.


He was hanging out in Cary's room playing a video game.


Cary worked a nunchuk one-handed, since his other hand was in a cast.


"Woo!" my dad shouted.


"Spanked."


"You should be ashamed of yourself," Cary shot back, "taking advantage of an invalid."


"I'm crying a river here."


Cary looked at me in the doorway and winked.


I loved him so much in that moment I couldn't stop myself from crossing over to him and pressing a kiss to his bruised forehead.


"Thank you," I whispered.


"Thank me with dinner.


I'm starving."


I straightened.


"I got the goods to make enchiladas."


My dad looked at me, smiling, knowing I'd need his help.


"Yeah?" "When you're ready," I told him.


"I'm going to grab a shower."


Forty-five minutes later, my dad and I were in the kitchen rolling cheese and store-bought rotisserie chicken -  my little cheat to save time - into lard- soaked white corn tortillas.


In the living room, the CD changer slipped in the next disk and Van Morrison's soulful voice piped through the surround sound speakers.


"Oh yeah," my dad said, reaching for my hand and tugging me away from the counter.


"Hum-de-rum, hum-de- rum, moondance," he sang in his deep baritone, twirling me.


I laughed, delighted.


Using the back of his hand against my spine to keep his greasy fingers off me, he swept me into a dance around the island, both of us singing the song and laughing.


We were making our second revolution when I noticed the two people standing at the breakfast bar.


My smile fled and I stumbled, forcing my dad to catch me.


"You got two left feet?" he teased, his eyes only on me.


"Eva's a wonderful dancer," Gideon interjected, his face arrested in that implacable mask I detested.


My dad turned, his smile fading, too.Gideon rounded the bar and entered the kitchen.


He'd dressed for the occasion in jeans and a Yankees T- shirt.