Tuff Chaser (The Outsiders FF)

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Five
Tammy's POV

"You did not just say what I thought you said!" I yelled, my eyes widening.
He only nodded grimly.

What was my dad doing? He was supposed to be dead as far as the authorities were concerned. He had no excuse to visit us after the way he deserted my mom and I. No excuse at all. I scowled at the passing scenery. Uncle Buck looked at me pitifully. "Just try to be civil. I know your mother is."

We approached our house and I opened the car door, dreading every step. I finally entered the house and was greeted by the sight of my mother and a face I hadn't seen in a long time, although it was clear as day. The black hair and dark eyes that I had inherited, and I silently wondered how my mother could cope with having a daughter who was the spitting image of the man who had almost broken her. I was going through a thousand memories of when I was a child and the blissful days I spent with my father. He had heard my first word, fed me and even taught me to ride a tricycle. There was no explanation for why he suddenly left.

My mother was standing by, a forced smile on her face. She looked at me apologetically. "Hello Father," I greeted him coldly.
His usual cheerful self was still there. "Well, long time no see Tammy. I've noticed you've grown quite a bit. How old are you now?" he said, a bit too happily.
"I turned seventeen a few weeks ago."
He thought about it and rubbed his hands together. "Remind me and I'll bring you a birthday present next time. What was it you liked? Those china dolls, wasn't it?"
"I'm not four anymore, Father." I hated calling him that. He didn't deserve that title. He was all but a father figure. "Why are you here?"
He chuckled. "I'm staying for a little while. My girlfriend's gonna kill me if I don't get her the money I owe her."
Interesting. His relationship was materialistic. I shot a 'What the heck' look at my mother. "Oh yeah? And how old is she, twelve?"
Mom began to scold me, but my father cut her off. "It's alright, Marge," he grinned, revealing a set of yellowed teeth. "Tammy, I'm sorry if I've upset you."
I scoffed. He wasn't sorry. A simple apology was not going to make up for all he'd done — or hadn't done. "I'm only going to be around for about a week or until I can get some cash. Those boys back there all know me too good. While we're together for such a short time, I wanna get updated on what's happening with you."
"What if I don't let you?"
"Tammy!" my mom snapped. "He's your father, just be nice for a few days!"
I was about to reply harshly, but stopped myself when I realized how hard it must be for my mother to suddenly find out her husband was alive after thirteen years. She glanced at the clock and rushed into the kitchen, noticing it was almost dinnertime.

I sat down on the edge of the sofa and my dad took a seat opposite me. He lit a cigarette and exhaled slowly, smiling not unkindly at me.
"Take your smoke outside," I said.
His eyes twinkled in exactly the same way mine did. "Only if you come with."
I suppressed a sigh and pushed open the heavy front door. He followed me as I sat down on the porch.
Th smell of smoke was encircling me and I shifted further away and fake coughed, hoping he would get the message. He did, and I was grateful.
"It's been over ten years," he stated. "What's been going on in your life? What are your grades like? Who are your friends?"
I felt a bubble of anger expanding inside me. What right did he have to know? He was the one who'd missed out on all of it. I restrained myself from letting it all out. "Life's just fine. I'm an A-grade student. My friends are good to me." I answered all his questions in short, straightforward sentences.
He paused, rolling his cigarette around his fingers. "Any boyfriends I should be concerned about?"
I glared at him. "None that you should be concerned about."
A low chuckle escaped his lips. "Heh, there is one, isn't there?"
I gave no answer. It wasn't his business anyway.
"Seems like you're unwilling to share your life story, so I'm going to share mine."
"I don't want to hear it."
"That's too bad, isn't it?"