CATERINA

    Ifeel like a stalker, sitting in my car, parked a few houses down from my father’s. There aren’t many cars parked on the street this early on a weekday afternoon with everybody at work, yet I still feel like I should hang back. His car is parked on the street, meaning he’s home, though I didn’t want him to see me. I’m not even sure why.

    We haven’t spoken since that day at the house. It’s driving me crazy not knowing how he has been handling life since our argument. I figured Ken would contact me if there was an emergency. Otherwise, I waited about as long as I could before curiosity forced me toe up with a reason to show up here.

    Maybe some people can deal with being shut out, but not me. He’s still in too dangerous of a ce to leave him on his own. Add to that a grandchild I would like him to meet someday, and I didn’t see how this could continue. Waiting for him toe around and get in touch with me didn’t work, so I resorted to a peace offering by grabbing groceries in case the kitchen’s in shambles again.

    All that’s left is getting out of the damn car. Taking a breath, I open the door and pull the two brimful bags from the back seat.What am I going to find?I shudder to think about it. He could have spiraled worse than ever after that fight or taken it as a sign that he needed to turn things around. I know better than to assume thetter, but I can still hope, right?

    As I approach the house, I can tell the front porch has been swept recently—a good sign. I press my finger to the bell and squint, trying to see through the curtain hanging in front of the ss cut–out. There’s movement on the other side, and before I can step back, the lock clicks and the door opens. I hold my breath. Waiting. Hoping.

    On the other side, I find my father. He’s showered, shaved, and dressed in a clean t–shirt and jeans. His eyes are clear rather than bloodshot and ssy when they travel over me from head to toe.” What are you doing here?”

    At least his snappy question crushes the emotion swelling in my chest, or else I may have burst into tears of relief at finding him looking better than he has in weeks. “I’m going door–to–door with bags of groceries, seeing if anybody wants to take them.”

    “I really don’t need the sarcasm.”

    “Dad, obviously, I’m bringing groceries to ensure you have what you need.”

    “You don’t have to do that.”

    “I know, but I want to.”

    “When did you get it into your head that I need you to take care of me? No, don’t answer that.” He shakes his head, scowling. “Is this really what you think I am? Some hopeless loser who needs his daughter to bring food to him?”

    “You’re putting words in my mouth that weren’t there, Dad.” I make a big deal of craning my neck to look over his shoulder. “And unless I’m interrupting something, maybe I coulde inside and

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    “Dewster mulihare a problem med all these asevas. Not that I’m saying it’s your fault.”

    “messy, na That’s not what happened “With the freezer door open between us, I close my eyes and take a deep breach. After change it, 18orce myself to look him in the eye, “I quit, I walked away”

    “You what?” H mit end qe mundepresion is pretty close to what I expected. The cherry on top is the way his the legs to thish. He rings to mind one of those old Bugs Bunny cartoons where a characters good animal and once the color reaches the top of their head, their bat flies off or souching like that. He’s not wearing a hat. I hope his head doesn’t explode.

    “Let me exin, at least?”

    “that is there to exin? You’re throwing your entire future away a little bit at a time. One poor decision after another.”

    “Don’t make me regreting here, Dad,” I whisper while my chin quivers as 1 fight back tears, “ Please. I don’t want bto /bfight.”

    “Okay, okay,” he grumbles, holding up both hands I don’t want you crying over it.”

    *It’s like I can’t predict my emotions anymore.

    “Yes, I guess you would be fighting with that right now. I remember your mom’s mood swings, ” Thurn, his brows draw together and his hands close around my arms. “What are you not telling me? bIs /beverything alright with the baby? Is that why you quit your job?”

    No, no.b” /bbI /bbshake /bmy head, touched at the sudden change. Though I am sorry his mind went in that direction “I’m just fine. I went to the doctorst werk, and he said everything was right on track. You’ll have a grandbaby in March”

    130

    That’s not enough to distract him, unfortunately. And my grandbaby is going to have an unemployed mother.“,

    “I wouldn’t be the first.”

    “Caterina…”

    “They’re called stay–at–home moms, by the way.”

    “You know what I’m saying. I don’t appreciate you making jokes about it.”

    I can’t count how many times I’ve picked up his spirits by joking around, making sarcasticments, teasing him a little. It looks like that’s not happening today. “Dad. Please, hear me out.” I sink into one of the chairs at the table with a heavy sigh. “It’s not what I wanted. I never wanted that job. I know it was what you wanted for me, and I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, but I have to do what’s best for me.”

    “Honey. It’s not about having the perfect job, not all the time. Do you know how many kids graduate college and end up taking the first job thates their way for the sake of experience? That’s what your first job is about. You work your way up to what you actually want to do.”

    Considering he went right from high school to the police force, I have to wonder how he manages to sound so sure of himself. “I understand that. And I could have stayed–they were happy to let me stay on. I just… couldn’t see the point.” It sounds prettyme when I say it out loud. Unlike me, or rather the me I used to be. I can see why he’d be confused.

    “Not when you already have a meal ticket, right?”

    “Please. I will need you to stop saying or doing things like that.” His head snaps back a little like he’s surprised–and he’s not the only one. I didn’t mean toe out sounding so stern. Then again, he’s done plenty of things in the recent past alone that is enough for me to get an attitude over. Maybe he has iting to him. Maybe he needs to hear what a jerk he’s being.

    “I would think you’d know by now that you raised me better than that,” I continue once the first rush of anger passes. “I’m insulted that you would even speak those words.”

    “Yes, but then you’ve done a lot of thingstely that have left me scratching my head and wondering if you’re the kid I raised.”

    “Trust me. I am still that same person. And I’m sorry that my life isn’t turning out the way you hoped. I’m sure when the timees, I’ll have the same hopes and dreams for my child.”

    “Yes. You will.” He releases a chuckle, running a hand over his head before taking a seat of his own. “You’re going to learn pretty fast what it feels like to stand back and watch your kid make a mistake. You can try with all your might, but there no changing their mind.”

    “I’m sorry I’ve put you through that.”

    “You don’t seem very sorry.”