Stuck-Up Suit - Vi Keeland Page 0,55

AFTERNOON, ALL THE CONFIDENCE in our relationship that this morning had instilled was already starting to dissipate. Ida had me running errands for her since lunch time. In line at the bank, the man in front of me was with his daughter. She was probably around the same age as Chloe. Sitting on the seven train on my way to the printer, a couple was seated across from me. Their daughter was holding on to the pole, spinning around and around. It probably wasn’t a profound moment for them, but for me, I saw a happy family. Reminders were everywhere I looked.

After my last errand for the day, I was standing on the platform waiting for my southbound train to arrive. Across the track, the northbound seven arrived. The word next to the circled seven caught my attention. Queens. Without thinking, I hoped on, just as the doors slid closed.

What the hell was I doing? I hadn’t seen him in eight years. For all I knew, he might not even live in Queens anymore. When I exited at the Sixty-First Street Station, a northbound train was pulling up. Looking across, I considered going back where I’d just came from. I thought about it for so long, that eventually people had to walk around me while I stood frozen in place watching the train pull away.

His house was only about eight blocks from the station. Around the third block, my phone buzzed, and Graham’s name flashed on the screen. My finger lingered over the DECLINE button, but then I remembered what I told him last night. I would be there for him. I wouldn’t avoid him anymore.

“Hey.”

“Hey, gorgeous. How was your day?”

I was standing at the crosswalk waiting for a light to turn green. “Busy. Ida had me running all around the city doing errands.” Just then, the light turned, and I stepped off of the curb. Out of nowhere, a cab pulled up in front of me, less than an inch from my toes. I banged on the trunk of the yellow car. “Hey, asshole. Watch where you’re going!”

“Soraya?”

“Yeah. Sorry. A cabbie almost just ran over my foot.”

“You’re still in Manhattan?”

“Actually, no.”

“Oh. Good. I just finished a meeting in Brooklyn. Where are you? I’ll pick you up, and we can grab some dinner?”

I was quiet for a minute. “I’m not in Brooklyn.”

“Where are you?”

“Queens.”

“Oh. I didn’t realize you were still doing errands.”

“I’m not, actually.” I swallowed. “I’m going to see my father.”

Graham didn’t ask me why I was going; the reason was pretty obvious. We talked for the rest of the walk, and I told him I’d text him when I was done so that we could have dinner. When I hung up, I stopped in my tracks, realizing my father’s house was only two doors down. What was I coming to say?

I had no sense of time as I stood there, but it must have been at least a half- hour that I stared at his home. My emotions were completely out of control, and I seriously had no idea what the hell I was going to say, yet I was sure I needed to do this. Fuck it. I walked to his doorstep, took a deep breath, and knocked. My heart was racing as I waited. When no one came to the door, at first a sense of relief came over me. I was just about to turn and leave when the door opened.

“Can I help you?” Theresa squinted, and then her eyes grew wide. “Oh, my. Soraya. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

I forced a smile. “Is my dad here?” I was suddenly panicked and wanted nothing more than to leave. Please say no. Please say no.

“Yes. He’s upstairs fighting with the closet door that came off the hinge. I think he’s losing.” She smiled warmly and stepped aside. “Come in. I’ll go up and get him. He’s going to be so excited you’re here.”

I stayed just inside the doorway, no different than how I would have felt entering a stranger’s house for the first time. It’s what he essentially was. A stranger. The walls were lined with family photos. My father’s new family. They were smiling and laughing in every framed shot. Not a single picture of my sister or me. I shouldn’t have come. A voice I hadn’t heard in years interrupted my internal debate to flee.

“Soraya.” My father was halfway down the stairs as he spoke. “Is everything okay?”

I nodded.

“Is your mother okay?”

That pissed