The Crescent

Chapter 28

Zacari screamed.

"Jesus, Cari, shut the hell up, people are sleeping!"

"You scared me," she retorted.

"What are you doing running around the hotel at four in the morning? Were you with that little Mexican kid?"

"Salvadorian!"

Her father pinched the bridge of his nose like he had a migraine coming on. "At this point I'd rather you run around with him than alone at night. You don't know anyone here! You're in a hotel full of strangers."

"So, you're telling me you can be gone all day hanging out with your buddy Chris doing who knows what, and I can't just explore a little?" She should have let him sleep without covers.

Her father rolled his eyes. "Cari, please. I've been giving you your space. You really want to hang out with me all day?" The question was so rhetorical it might as well have fitted itself among a plate of decorative, faux fruit. But Zacari picked it from the conversation like a plum and it ripened in her hand.

"I mean, yeah." His eyebrows shot up. She cleared her throat, and the words tumbled out, raw and irrevocable. "Maybe. I mean, it doesn't make up for the time you were...gone. But it would be nice to hang out with you. And I know I say mean stuff to you, but I'm allowed to because I'm the kid. You're supposed to deal with it because you're the dad. Plus," she added, "you deserve it ninety percent of the time."

The impasse of his face could have contained anything. Zacari waited. Then, a slight nod, as if to say, "Point taken." She waited for more, but that seemed to be all she was going to get. It took no time at all for her to wish she'd kept her mouth shut.

"Guess I'll go to bed then," she resigned, turning away.

"I do deserve it." Zacari turned back around. "I get it, I do. I get why your grandparents hate me too. I know I haven't been the best father." Understatement of the year, she thought, but let him continue. "But I do love you, Zacari. And –" he was quiet for a second – "in my tiniest of defenses – and I'm not saying it's an excuse – but I wasn't set up to be a successful father."

She stared at him.

"The world isn't set up for me to succeed. My father went to prison before I was even born, and as hardworking as my mother was, I had no role model of what kind of man to be."

"But –"

"I know, I'm not saying it's an excuse. I'm not. But I love you and your mama, always have. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I'm trying to get my shit together right now."

Zacari fell silent. "We love you. I just...I want you around." It came out awkward, not at all how she wanted it to sound, but maybe there was the slightest chance he understood. She cleared her throat. "So, are you going to ground me or something?"

He smiled an authentic smile for once. The kind that creased the crow's feet at his eyes. "No. But go to bed, girl. No wonder you're so nasty in the mornings."

Zacari fought back a smile and hopped into bed and Lela. The only detail she'd recall from her dreams was the far-off soundtrack of Hairspray.