Lucas
As expected, Alyssa's father-daughter dance was everything a kid could want. Aside from the dance floor that was decorated with streamers, balloons, and strobe lights, there was a bouncy house, cotton candy, and more sugar-laden beverages than any proper parent would allow their kid to consume. Given she's kinda like my kid, I did my best to limit her sugar intake while still maintaining my cool points as Uncle Lucas. It was not an easy feat, but given the smile that was on her face most of the night, I'd say the mission was a success.
During the two hours we were there, we danced, I got to chase her as she ran around with a pack of wild kids—an undertaking that at times left me with the same emotional trauma I experienced in BUDs—and I got to hang out with a bunch of real dads. That was the strangest part for me. I've hung out with many men throughout my life, but unlike the guys I knew in the service, all these men talked about were bowling leagues, little leagues, and work. It was weird. I had zero in common with any of them, hence the kink in my neck from all the nodding I did as I pretended to follow along with their conversations.
"Okay Ally girl, do you want banana-rama, strawberry-nelly, or peach-please?"
"Peach. I want peach!" She yells happily, making sure I hear exactly what she's said.
After paying, I grab both our drinks with one hand, and then guide her over to the outdoor patio area, where I know it's quieter. Aptly named The Smoothie Bar, the place is like a kid's version of a bar. There are dozens of round-top tables with colorful bar stools, all filled with boisterous families. Between the crowd of people, the coin-operated kiddie rides, and the arcade machines whose sounds reverberate off the walls, the place is loud.
Unfortunately for us, much louder than my PTSD-laden brain can handle. It's my fault, really. After the dance, I figured it would be a good time to check the place out, not realizing others at the dance might have the same idea.
Thankfully, Alyssa doesn't complain about the change of scene, and I'm pleasantly surprised as I watch her take in the outdoor area with a look of awe. I can't blame her, since the string of lights that brighten the space gives it a magical feeling that complements the soft island music playing on the outdoor speakers.
When I find an open table at the end of the patio we take a seat, my back to the exterior wall so I can see the entire space. It's a balmy June evening, so the cool breeze coming off the lake is refreshing. Taking off the suit jacket, I lay it over the chair next to me and then unbutton the sleeves of the white dress-down shirt so I can roll them up to my elbows.
"Uncle Luc, do you know my dad?" Alyssa asks between sips of her smoothie.
Yeah, I met the asshole.
That's the response that comes to mind, but given she's just a child, I do my best to tamp down the hatred I feel for the man.
"Yes, I've met him."
Looking down at her drink, she continues to work through her thoughts.
"Do you know where he is?" This time, those sad little eyes peer right at me.
"I don't, I'm very sorry, Ally." I'm grateful my answer isn't a lie.
"I don't think he's coming back but don't say anything to Mama. She gets sad when we talk about him."
This comes as a surprise, as I didn't think Embree's girls were aware of what's happening. Based on this conversation, it's clear Alyssa knows and understands far more than we thought. It's something I'll need to bring up and discuss with Embree.
YOU ARE READING
BROKEN HOPE (Broken Redemption Book 2)
RomanceI was so damn naive it's no wonder I've ended up here. Kidnapped by the man who promised me forever, just as I'd begun to understand the depths of his betrayal. It's a sad truth I didn't marry my husband for love. I married him for the life he promi...
