I looked at him and asked, “What did he do?”
“Handed the new waitress a hundred-dollar bill and told her to strip.”
I winced, “Yeah, that will do it.”
He winked, “I know.”
After we sat down and got our orders, Madalyn looked at me and asked, “So I know we know your mom and Bax. But what about your dad?”
I looked at her, “Do you really want to know? It’s not a pretty story.”
She nodded, “Yeah. I would. You're awesome.”
I smiled, “So are you.”
Then I swallowed.
Then I told her about how my dad was.
Alcohol.
Drugs.
Other women.
I told her about that holiday.
I told her about the dishwasher incident.
Then I told her something I’ve never told a single soul.
“Sometimes, at night, I lay awake in fear. Because some mornings when I woke up, my panties were askew. I knew it was my dad. Because I had pretended to be asleep one night when he came in.” I shivered at the memory.
I wasn’t going to tell her anything more than that.
I wasn’t going to tell her about the Polaroid camera he used.
I wasn’t going to tell her about the sick, twisted gleam in his eyes, I had been foolish enough to catch once without him knowing.
Madalyn’s mouth was open. “Are you serious?”
I nodded.
“Can I sic dad on him?” she asked with a growl.
I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye, which I hadn’t realized had fallen, and chuckled, “My stepdad already has something on him. But should it ever fail, I’ll let you sic your dad on him, okay?”
She nodded.
“No one else knows about that. Do they?” she asked.
I shook my head, “No.”
Madalyn swallowed, then in a low tone, she asked, “Can you keep a secret?”
I leaned in and whispered, “Of course.”
She swallowed. “Noone knows this, but umm,” she swallowed again, “Before dad got full custody of us, my mom let her boy toy at the time into my room. If it hadn’t been for something falling in the house, I...” she swallowed then wiped a tear from the corner of her cheek, “hate to think about what could have happened that night.”
