He tilted his head. “I’m going to have to disagree. Daddy knows best, right?”
My heart raced, and I stuffed the last of the pretzel into my mouth just to have it gone. I chewed. Nearby there was a garbage can, and I guzzled the tea so it would be finished. I wanted to stuff my hands into my pockets and couldn’t right now. I dumped my garbage in the can, and Daddy’s trash went sailing in behind mine. He came over and lightly settled his hands on my shoulders. I had no idea what he wanted me to say, but it was clear he expected something. I wiped my sweaty hands on my thighs.
“You’re nice,” I said as desperation rushed through me. I didn’t like the stress after how relaxed everything had been a few minutes ago. “I want you to know I’m grateful.”
His lips thinned and he nodded. “I understand, and I want to help you and not take advantage of you. You keep offering something I enjoy very much but shouldn’t indulge in.” He squinted at me. “I’ve explained why I shouldn’t.”
Frustration had me crossing my arms, and his lips twitched as if he wanted to laugh. “You can’t take advantage of me. You’re my.... You’re my Daddy.” I wanted him to keep me so bad. He’d saved me. Last night had shaken me up. He could decide he didn’t want to do this, so I’d have to work extra hard to let him know I could be whatever he needed, whoever he needed.
And nothing was off the table.
Almost like he could see what I was thinking, he shook his head. “I disagree, but let’s not argue. Let’s go pick out the futon. The furniture store is only half a block that way.” He pointed behind us to the other side of the street, and I couldn’t help but tense up again. I felt like I was on a roller coaster. Being out in the world again was fun, but parts of it were difficult. I didn’t like the idea of picking anything because it wasn’t my place to make choices. And I didn’t want the futon because it would put me farther away from Daddy at night.
It would be a punishment.
“Okay, what is that frown for?” he asked quietly.
I was shocked. I’d been hiding my facial expressions for years. I touched my cheek.
He laughed. “It’s okay, just tell me.”
Shrugging, I tried to recover. “Nothing.”
He didn’t seem like he believed me, but he led the way and we crossed the street. In a few short minutes we’d arrived at the store, which was a bland tin building with a big red sign stuck on top that read Mazza’s Furniture Warehouse. I followed him in, and it was strange. There were little fake rooms set up on the left side of the sales floor, and on the right side were rows upon rows of shelves stacked with boxes and mattresses.
“Father Gian!” someone said, only he didn’t say it like Lou in the pretzel truck; it sounded like someone who knew him well. “You jerk, come here.” A tall, thin man, who was maybe a bit younger than me, came at Daddy with his arms wide open. He had brown hair that was nearly black and the same happy brown eyes as Daddy.
They hugged, and Daddy patted the man on the back. There was no hesitation between them as they embraced. An uncomfortable, squirmy feeling settled in my belly, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it. Daddy backed out of the hug and turned toward me.
“Phoenix, this is my cousin Bobby Mazza. This is my mamma’s younger sister’s baby boy.”
Bobby shoved Daddy with a groan. “Why you gotta embarrass me? I’m twenty-four, I’m not a baby.” He winked at me. “This guy. If he hadn’t become a priest, I’d slap him.” He snorted. “What can I do for you?” He glanced between us and his grin turned knowing. “New bed?”
Daddy sighed before he told his cousin why we were there—to look for a futon—and we were shown to the side of the store with all the fake rooms. We walked almost the whole way to the back.
“Futons!” Bobby said and waved at several. “Personally I like the thick mattresses, but everyone has their own taste.”
“Come here and sit on this one,” Daddy said, pointing at a futon that was in the upright position like a couch. The mattress was solid and purple, which was okay as far as colors went, and I sank onto it. I nodded because it was fine—they were all fine. I didn’t care what we got because I didn’t want one in the first place.
“Which frame do you like?” Daddy smiled at me. There were four in this section—one wooden, and also gray, black, or a shiny purple in the metal options.
I didn’t care, so I shrugged. “Whatever you want, Daddy.”
Bobby’s eyes bugged and his cheeks puffed out. I tried not to frown at him, but he was acting very strange.
“Can we have a minute, Bobby?” Daddy’s sharp smile put me on edge.
“Sure thing. Take your time.” He coughed, and I swore it sounded like “daddy.” Another customer came in, and he went toward the front to greet the man.
Daddy went to a knee in front of me, ran a hand over his beard, and pursed his lips. I didn’t like the way he seemed to be upset, but he laid his hand over mine where it rested on my knee.
“You were excited to come out with me today. You were happy to go shopping.”
I nodded, and his brows dipped. “I’m happy to spend time with you.”
“Okay... but you’re clearly not pleased to be here doing this, sugar.”
My hand twitched under his, but he didn’t tighten his grip or hurt me. “I’m sorry.”
