When we finally reached my neighborhood, it was late. He found a spot to park about a block away from my building, and told me to stay put while he walked around and opened my door for me.
“You really don’t need to walk me to the door,” I told him as I slid out. “Dropping me in front of the building is just fine.”
“In this sketch-ass neighborhood, at this time of night?” He closed and locked the door behind me. “Not fucking likely.”
“Honestly,” I told him as he took my hand and walked me toward my place, “anyone hanging out on the street in this neighborhood, at this time on a Sunday night… there’s a ninety-nine-point-nine-percent chance that they’re fucked out of their tree.”
“That supposed to make me feel better?”
“The junkies around here are totally harmless,” I said. “They’re in their own world, and if anything, they’re probably more scared of me than I am of them.”
“Uh-huh. Well, where there are junkies there are dealers. You’re gorgeous and you’re not walking around here by yourself. Fucking creeps me out. Did you get that lock on your door fixed yet?”
Ah, yes. The lock.
The lock on my apartment door that had been sticking lately, which my sister had felt the need to report to my entire family, at brunch yesterday.
“Jacob sent someone over to replace it already,” I assured him. “Last night.”
“Jacob?”
“Aunt Margot’s fiancé.”
“Oh. Right.”
“He’s wealthy,” I explained, “so he often steps up with things like that. It makes Margot happy. Believe me, Dani’s report at brunch didn’t go ignored. She had Margot all in a panic thinking I was sleeping in a heroin den or something.”
“She’s never been to your place?”
“Margot doesn’t exactly leave West Vancouver very often. Madeleine’s been over, though, plenty of times.”
“And she’s got no problem with you living here?” We’d arrived at my building and he frowned at the fresh graffiti on the front door as I unlocked it.
“Oh, she’s got plenty of problems with me living here. I really don’t need you all ganging up on me, though. I like my place. It has character.”
Ashley made a little grumbly sound that wasn’t really a word and followed me inside.
In the tiny foyer, I turned to say good night. “Thank you again for taking me to meet your dad. He was… um…” I trailed off as I searched my brain for something nice to say that wouldn’t be untrue.
“He’s an asshole, Danica. You can say it.”
“And your grandfather was… How do I put it? I think I’ll just follow the age-old advice of polite society, ‘If you don’t have anything nice to say…’”
He snorted. “Not like he has anything nice to say. Doesn’t stop him.”
“I had a good time,” I told him. “Seriously. I know it wasn’t the same house you grew up in, but it was nice to drive out there with you and just see where you came from. I’ve never been to Chilliwack before.”
“And now you never have to go again.”
I knew he was kidding. Being self-deprecating. “Maybe I’ll get to see your dad again, sometime,” I said.
“Maybe you will.”
“I’d even put up with your astonishingly racist and hostile grandfather. You know, for you.”
“I really wouldn’t expect you to. Believe me, I see him as little as possible.” He drew closer to me, taking hold of my waist and pulling me into his body. “But thank you for being so cool to my dad. He hardly deserves it, but it was nice of you.”
“It was interesting to see him. You kind of look like him. Except… prettier.”
