drugs. How many times do I gotta tell ya?”
“I need you lucid enough for this conversation.” No bullshitting right now. I can’t deal with his pleading, his empty promises, the thick layer of guilt he’ll lay on. Not again, and not anymore.
“I’m fine, PJ. I just need some help.” He coughs. “What about half of the mortgage payment? I can handle half.”
“I’m not giving you money.”
“Then the bills. I’ll do mortgage this time ‘round. Can you help out with the gas and electric and phones?”
I kick my leg up, resting my elbow on my knee, the phone pressed to my ear with more force now, like I need extra help to keep it there. I eye the door of Candace’s art room, and just knowing she’s within reach gives me a light boost.
“I’m not talking money with you, okay? I got something more important I need to tell you.” I take his silence as a signal to plow through. “Madison and I want Demi to live with us for a while.”
He chokes on what I can only assume is the signature drink in his hand. “You want to what?”
“Maddie just got a new job, and our lease is up this month. We’re going to upgrade to a three bedroom apartment in the same complex.” It was a great deal, really. We lucked out looking when we did. With us being up on the lease, if we signed for another year in the same complex, they’ll waive the security deposit and offer us the manager’s moving company for free. Not that we have a lot of stuff, but it was a nice bonus nonetheless.
Candace did offer to help out with anything, and even though she didn’t specifically say monetarily, I knew what she meant. I like that she doesn’t force it on me by any means, and she’s already helped out enough by getting Maddie in at her farm.
Dad clears his throat. “You really think you and your sister can take on a seven-year-old?”
“She’s ten, Dad.” I take a breath to compose myself. “And yes.”
He pauses for so long I’d think he hung up if I didn’t hear him occasionally slurping from whatever drink he has. I look down the hallway again, buzzed chatter from the classroom filling the empty space. A tiny smile twitches in the corner of my mouth. Maybe Candace will be out here sooner than I thought.
“You’ll pay my mortgage this month?” he asks, and my stomach deflates. I had a feeling he might try to negotiate.
“No.”
“Then she can’t go with you.”
Shit, here we go. I didn’t want to pull the blackmail card, but it’s the ace up my sleeve. I take a deep breath and try to douse the flames running up and down the back of my neck.
“If she doesn’t want to, then I won’t force her. But Dad, if she does, and you won’t let her, I’ll go another route.”
“What do you mean by that?” he spits out. “You’ll call the cops? Like they can do anything.”
“Child services might.”
“You’d force her into foster care?”
“Would you?”
My breath sucks from my lungs with his silence, and I wait, the buzz from Candace’s classroom now white noise. Does he get how far I’ll go to protect Demi from the toxic cycle he’ll throw her into once she’s old enough? I’ll lawyer up, adopt her, do whatever I can to get her out like Mad and I did. I’ve given him chances, years of them to straighten up, and each month I’m met with another disappointment. Demi is the only reason I have left to help him out, and he knows it.
“Your mom won’t be happy,” he says after a beat, his voice gruff—defeated. I want to bite back with a retort about how it’s his addiction that brought us here, not the stubbornness I developed in this one conversation. But I keep it locked inside, knowing it won’t make a difference.
“Maddie and I will head over in a bit. Chat with you both about it.”
“You’ll have room for her?” His tone softens, and my heart cracks with the hitch in his voice. I’ve never heard my dad relent.
“Yeah. You’re more than welcome to come look at the place.”
“Hmm.”
We sit in silence for a good minute, and the classroom door banging open jerks me out of my reverie.
“I’ll see you in a bit, okay?”
“Pete…?”
I raise an eyebrow, my heart jolting at the lack of nickname that I hate.
“Yeah, Dad?”
“This won’t be forever, right?” He chokes again, this time