I’ve been meaning to upgrade to an iPhone anyway, so I walked over to the Apple store and bought one using Zander’s debit card, which wasn’t affected by the salt water apparently.
As soon as it was activated, it exploded with new texts and calls.
Shit.
Okay, gotta face some of this.
First up, my dad. He’s been calling nonstop. Good ol’ Trevor must not have told him where I’m staying, which I appreciate.
Which reminds me, where is Trevor? He didn’t come back last night, not that I expected him to after the previous night. He said he had a mission to accomplish while he was here. I wonder what that was.
So I called my dad and agreed to meet him for lunch.
I was all upset over him and Karissa before, but now I’m kind of numb.
This morning, sipping my Frappuccino under the green umbrella as I watch the people go by, I’m oddly unfazed about anything.
Maybe that’s what a near-death experience does to you. Maybe everything will seem NBD to me from now on.
There he is. I see him walking toward me.
Oh shit, Trevor is with him.
Well, of course, Abigail! Trevor is his chauffeur slash bodyguard slash hooker provider.
My dad looks ridiculous next to Trevor. He’s all soft and pudgy, kind of roly-poly. Mostly bald, with what’s left gray going white. The mustache is back. It seems to take every other year off.
He’s dressed like he thinks all rich tourists should dress in Miami. Yellow Polo shirt, plaid shorts, and Sperry Top-siders.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my dad. He’s always been good to me. But I always got the sense that he wanted to be somewhere else.
Sucking cock, maybe.
I laugh to myself again as they near the table, Trevor resplendent in his usual black suit. Our eyes meet for a second of pure passion, almost nabbing my pussy again with an intense lightning bolt.
“Hello, Abigail,” says my dad sheepishly with his head down.
I stand up, move toward him, and hug him. “Hi, Dad. Sit.”
“I’m going to shop a bit,” says Trevor.
“No, you stay too.”
Trevor gives me a look like he’d rather have his balls chopped off. “No, I want to check out a store over here. You two talk.”
I give him a yeah right look. Trevor hates stores. He throws me a panty-melting smile and saunters off.
Deep breath.
And . . .
Back to dad.
I sit.
“Want a coffee?” I say.
I’ve never seen my dad this nervous. He’s fidgeting something furious, not to mention sweating buckets. “No, thanks. So . . . um . . . hi.”
“Hi.”
“Hot, isn’t it?”
“Welcome to Florida in August.”
He takes out a handkerchief and wipes his mostly bald head. “Ha ha. Yeah.”
I take a loud long sip from my nearly-empty Frappuccino. “Yeah.”
He smiles and says, “So.”
“So.”
“Um . . . ”
“Well, this is fun.”
“Abigail, I’m sorry about your friend.”
“Dad, it’s okay. Believe it or not . . . I get it. I think I actually get it.”
“Your friend is nice.”
“I noticed you like her.”
“Yes, she’s . . . unique. So, Abigail, let’s just try to keep this quiet, huh?”
I smile a little. “So, Dad, you want to keep quiet about my staying here and I keep quiet about the fact you were deep-throating my friend’s cock. Is this a negotiation?”
He looks around nervously and crouches into his hands. “Please don’t talk so loud!”
“That wasn’t loud.”
“Abigail, the thing is . . . I’m a failed husband.”
“Dad, no you’re not. Look at what you married.”
“Do you know, Abigail, how beautiful your mother was when I first saw her?”
“I’ve seen the pictures a few thousand times, Dad.”
“I was blinded. I couldn’t see anything else. It was like the entire world organized itself around her. Everything disappeared when she was around.”
I think about Lukas Thorn. “Yeah, I know that feeling.”
“I’ve been living a lie for many years now. With Trevor’s help.”
“He’s good that way.”
“Very good.”
“So where do we go from here?”
“You keep quiet about me, let me go back to my life in Concord with your mother like nothing happened. She never knows . . . I mean she never knows . . . and I’ll support you here. How much do you need?”
“I don’t want money, Dad.”
“Seriously, how much do you need?”
“I don’t need anything.”
“Abigail, you didn’t fall under the spell of Karissa, did you?”
A stab of irritation hits me. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well, she’s a lowlife hooker.”
The stab of irritation flares up into a ringlet of anger. “How can you talk about her like that?”
“Abigail,” he says as he puts his hand on mine. “She’s a prostitute. She’s not worth having as a friend. I hope that’s not how you’re making your money down here. Let me open up a special account for you.”
“Dad, how can you talk about her like that? The last time I saw you, you seemed to like her quite a bit.”
“That was just sex, dear. I paid her for that.”
The anger rises up and out. “Don’t talk about her like that! And I don’t need your money! And no, I’m not a prostitute!”
“Abigail, please keep your voice down.”
“You know Dad? I’ve always been on your side. But right now, you sound a little like Mom.”
“All right, let’s move past this. Where are you staying?”
“The Redmond Apts,” I say.
His eyebrows raise. “Apts?”
“Apartments. I say Apts because that’s what the sign says.”
“Oh. Is that one of Trevor’s family’s places?”
My heart skips a beat. “Trevor’s family?”
“Yes, I thought you knew. He’s from here. His family owns a lot of real estate properties, but I probably shouldn’t divulge that. He doesn’t like anyone to know. I just thought that since the two of you have always been so close . . . well, never mind. As long as you’re safe here and don’t say anything about that hooker.”
“Stop calling her that! Dad, she is a good person! She was only doing what she knows.” I stand up and grab my Frappuccino. “And right now I’d just like you to get on a plane back to Boston!”
“Okay, fine. One more thing. I just want you to know . . . I’m not gay!”
“Why would I even think that?”
“Uh . . . ub . . . well, what you saw!”
“Karissa is a girl, Dad!”
He laughs. “No, dear, that’s not a girl.”
“I’m done talking to you, Dad!”
I get up and storm away.
Chapter 9
“He is an ass!” I say to Trevor, who I find sitting on a low, multi-colored wall watching a group of five girls my age in short-shorts walking by while eating an ice-cream cone.
“Yeah, but he’s an easy ass, not like your mother. I’ll take him over her any day.”
“True. Hey, how do you eat McDonald’s and ice cream and never gain an ounce of fat, by the way?”
“I work out a lot.”
“I’ve never seen you work out.”
“I do it in private.”
“Uh huh. So, did you get your task done?”
“Yes. It was surprisingly easier than I thought.”
“Well, good.”
“Where are you off to?”
“I may have found a new place. I’m meeting the . . . um . . . real estate person at two.”
“Where?”
“Not too far. Over on West Ave.”
“No shit, really?”
“Yeah, really. Trevor, about last night–”
“Don’t, Smudge. Just don’t. It’s all my fault. I apologize. I didn’t mean to dump all that on you. I promised myself for years I would never dump it all on you, and I did. I ruined everything.”