Page 7 of My Ex’s Dad

“No one’s ever going to love you.”

“You’re worthless. An embarrassment.”

“You should be lucky I ever gave you a second of my time, you frigid bitch.”

I press my lips together as the litany of his hateful words replay in a loop in my mind.

Growling at the tension he can still invoke in me, I reach out to turn on the radio. Anything to drown out the replays of his words in my head.

My phone rings, and I mute the radio before answering, since it’s Jenni.

“Hey, just a thought,” she says.

“What?” We’ve been talking so much while I’ve been crashing at her place. About Roman. About the bakery. She’s one of our most loyal employees as well as my friend and she’s been trying to help me figure out a way to save the business.

“You didn’t tell Roman that you’re going to pick up your things, did you?” she asks.

“No. Hell no.” I shake my head. He’s been blowing up my phone, but it’s all passive. I haven’t answered or replied to anything so far. “I haven’t talked to him all week.”

“Okay. Good. Because I got worried for a second. Like, what if he’s waiting for you at that house and decides to be an asshole and, well. You know.”

“I know,” I reply. “Roman doesn’t even know that I left anything at the house. The staff will let me in to get my shit. Seriously, I’m just going there and coming right back. Then we can go over those notes about the delivery service idea I have.”

“Good. I’m sure this is just what we need to get ahead again,” she says. “Careful driving!”

We end the call and I sigh as I squint to see through the window better. I like walking and using public transportation in the city, but driving out of it is nice too.

When I can see.

And when the roads aren’t this slick…

As I focus on the drive, a faint doubt creeps in that this might not be a good idea after all. Not going to get my things, but going now, as the sky darkens and the storm closes in.

Being alone and having the autopilot freedom to think and just be is good for me though. Because as I speed by, I am confident this is it. This is the last time I’ll ever have anything to do with a Sokolov again. It’s the clean cut that I need.

The snow falls faster, though, and when my phone rings again, I debate not answering because I need to concentrate on the curvy highway. Seeing that it’s my dad, I’m obligated to pick up. He and Mom aren’t doing perfectly health-wise, and it breaks my heart that they still put in so many hours at the bakery. They had me later in life, so they’re not the spring chickens they used to be. They’re at the age where they should be planning a retirement.

Not keeping a failing business alive.

I answer him, though, so he’s not worried about me making this drive either.

“Hi, Lili,” he replies to my greeting, using the shortened name he always gives me. “Are you back yet?”

“No. I left later than I wanted to. Jenni and I were trying to repair that mixer for longer than we figured, and I got on the road late.”

“Maybe you should reconsider,” he advises, wise but worried, like always. He’s never been a risk taker, and his caution is partly why he’s in the bind he is now with the bakery. Never taking the step to put some capital in something that might pay off later. To make money, we have to spend money. Convincing him to believe that is a crusade I’ll never fully win.

“I just want those notes,” I remind him on the speaker call. “I spent too much time on them to dismiss it all. And we need those numbers I figured out to project what we can work with.”

“I don’t know, Lili.” His tone tells me he’s rubbing the back of his neck, agitated and unsure. “This delivery idea sounds good on paper, but making it work? I just don’t know.”

I bite my lip, peeved. That’s just it. Everything looks better on paper to him. None of us ever know how anything will turn out, but we have to take chances where we can.

“We can talk about the delivery options when I’m back,” I tell him, already distracted and skidding around a curve. I’m stressed, and it’s plain common sense not to talk business right now. I need to be careful this close to the house. Ornamental gates and fancy landscaping will make this drive a challenge.

“Okay,” he says. “But I’m just not sure this idea is something we can really rely on for much money, you know?”

“No, I don’t know, Dad. Neither do you. That’s why it’s an idea right now.”