Anything He wants

DADDY, DON’T I LOOK JUST LIKE HER?

I knock on his door, and the thuds are hollow as they reverberate throughout the empty condo.

I feel devious and conspiratorial, like a spy in the movies. I think the large jacket I borrowed from my mother is the culprit in that, especially since I’m using it to cover the lingerie I’m wearing.NôvelDrama.Org holds this content.

Yes, lingerie under my huge coat. Like I said, in the movies. It seems like a cool thing to do. I have to shake my nose a little to erase the smirk on my face.

I’m doing something wrong, kind of. I think a lot of people would see it as betraying my mother, but with how she lives her life and how she treats people, I don’t think anyone could betray her and not be at least partially justified.

I’m not making excuses, I swear! Just take my stepdad, for instance:

right now he’s holed up in a condo he just bought and started renovating. He and my mom are in the process of divorcing.

You think, well, he’s in a shitty, barren condo because he did something wrong to her, right?

Nope. She screwed him over royally. That woman is addicted to every vice I can think of, from smoking to drinking to gambling to stealing to cheating to being an all-around horrible bitch. When she wasn’t crushing my

stepdad’s dignity, she was spending every last cent he ever made. She emptthethand had before he met her.

When I say my mother is a virus, I mean it.

And my poor ol’ stepdad is a saint, giving that woman so many chances that it’s criminal. Even when she did all this shit to him, he was still the one to move out and give her everything: the house, a car, and future promises of alimony.

He still loves her, I know it, but I think after all the years, he’s finally hit the point where he knows he has to let her go. And it pains him deeply. That’s the only thing that’s making me nervous at the moment. When he answers that door when I see this run-down condo, I’m hoping the look on his face doesn’t immediately break my heart.

I’m hoping that when he sees me, it puts a smile on his face. At least, I hope when I offer him my body, he forgets all about that nasty woman. Because he deserves it. The man took care of me for the last 5 years of my life; through all the shit my mother’s done to him, he’s always taken care of me like his own daughter. I’m just glad I’m 20 now, old enough to repay him for everything he’s done. Without him, I think I’d have given up a long time ago-I’d say about the moment my mother gave up on me.

I hear his footsteps approaching the door. The locks come undone and the door opens cautiously.

He’s disheveled, his hair a mess, and his face unshaven. His face isn’t twisted in sadness, but he looks like he hasn’t slept in a while. Oddly, though, he smells like he just got out of the shower, shampoo, and body wash spilling through the door. How the hell does someone take a shower and somehow not look cleaner?

“Hey, Daddy,” I whisper, clearing my throat as a bout of sudden nervousness catches in my throat. Maybe I am more nervous than I thought.

His brow pinches together, confusion is evident as his voice pitches. “Hey,

Mindy. What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

“Oh,” he says, unsure of what to say, “I thought you’d be with your mother.”

I roll my eyes, wanting him to know that I’m on his side and don’t approve of her. I shake my head. “No, I don’t want to be around her at all. I haven’t spoken to her in a week.”

His head drops slightly, a disapproving tone crawling into his voice. “You really should, Mindy. You know she’s in a hard place right now and could use your support.”

See? Told you. Saint. Even when the woman shatters his world, he’s still looking out for her. I don’t have the heart to tell him that my mother hasn’t mentioned him once, hasn’t cried, hasn’t even emoted beyond anger at having to go out and buy her cigarettes for once.

“No, Daddy. She’s fine. I wanted to come and visit you. I think you could probably use my company more.”

He smiles, “Well, yeah,” he says, stepping to the side, “come in. I’m surprised you even wanted to see me.”

“I want to see you,” I respond, shuffling into the condo with my coat sealed shut, “It’s tough without you there.”

He closes the door behind me. “It’s hard now, but it’ll get better.” “Oh, Daddy,” I say, canvassing the living room of the condo in mid-renovation.

Better for whom?

Certainly not me, stuck with my awful mother. It doesn’t look like it is

for him either. The small condo is barren, as I remember it

when he first bought it. He didn’t have time to do anything with it-other than start painting-before he’d had enough of my mom. Half of one wall is painted, the roller and bucket in the corner where part of the carpeting had been ripped up. I guess he’s somewhat lucky that he didn’t get too far in tearing the place apart. At least it’s functional at the moment.

“Daddy, you don’t even have a bed in here!” I gasp. He’s been sleeping on the floor, a blanket and pillow pushed up against the corner. His living condition is worse than I imagined, and a tinge of worry washes over me when I realize there’s nowhere to lay down for us.

“Uhh…” he mumbles.

“You’ve had some time to go out and get some stuff.” It’s been a week since he’d left, so I thought he’d have something of comfort here. The only piece of furniture he has in the entire condo is a tall wooden stool. The only reason he has it is that he used it during renovation as a stand for his paint canisters, rollers, and brushes. Now he’s probably using it as his only place to sit and eat breakfast in the morning.

“I just…” he hesitates, “haven’t been in the mood to go out shopping.” Ugh. My heart sinks, the weight of sadness pulling me down. I was

hoping I wouldn’t feel like this, since I want this to be special for my stepdad.

I want him to get past that woman and start his life over.

With me.