Pictures And Some Memories

Thirty: To the Rescue

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"Laura, sweetheart, leave Andi be. She's got enough tea, dear," my father told my stepmother gently, swatting away her delicate hands from serving either of us anything else. I smiled after taking another sip of my green tea, a welcome relief as my Dad looked over the contract. He had a yellow highlighter in one hand, his glasses perched on the end of his nose, and his notebook open, taking furious notes as time passed.

"Kid, you live fifteen minutes down the road and I didn't even know that you'd broken up with the guy," he muttered as he finished up. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

I nodded, feeling choked up for the millionth time since arriving to the house. "I do, Dad, I do. I didn't really tell anyone about it, though. One of the people that knows of the fallout besides the girls is Zack, but that's only because he was there just before it happened."

My father's thick blond eyebrows shot up. "You're hanging around with him again, too?"

"I'm surprised he didn't tell you himself. You are neighbors, after all," I tried to joke, but my father's stern expression dried the chuckle caught in my throat.

"Andi..." he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, a sign of annoyance on his end. "Cut the crap and be honest with me."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, Dad," I sighed. "Yes, he and I have ... reconnected. I hope that you're not staunchly against it like you were the first time."

"He's grown up a lot in the last few years, especially after he had Nicholas. That poor kid didn't sleep for weeks once he was born."

I gaze my father a puzzled look. "How would you know?"

"Because I found him asleep on the sofa at your brother's condo while Maya and Ryan were cooing up a storm to soothe Nick back to sleep. I gave a couple of tips, even watched Nicholas for a bit here and there while he took care of errands or went to appointments."

"Did everyone keep this child off of my radar? Jesus Christ ..."

My father rolled his eyes. "Sweetheart, you know I just want you to be happy, and telling you about him would've just upset you. Clearly, it all worked out in the end, for the most part. Is he still embroiled in a custody dispute?"

"That's a story for a different day, and his to tell, at that..." I trailed off, sighing. "What's the damage, though, Dad? Am I royally fucked over?"

He glared at me for the F-bomb. "Well, it's not a great contract, let me tell you. He has a lot more control than the normal manager would. Then again, you two mixed business with pleasure, which does not bode well in your favor."

"But..." I drawled out, hoping that there was more to it than he was letting on.

"I'm going to make sure he doesn't get a say in your life any longer, both personally and professionally. I'll set up a consultation with Tristan soon – I'll work around your schedule, of course. He'll be more than happy to get into the ring for you."

"Are you sure, Dad?" I asked, feeling weak for needing his help in the first place.

"Andria, sweetheart, I'll always do what I can to make sure you're happy, healthy, and taken care of, because I'm your father and that's just what I do," he said simply, giving me a warm smile.

I stood from the barstool I was perched on in his kitchen and pulled him in for a much-needed hug, to which he returned. It felt nice to finally have a non-volatile relationship with him. I knew now that my personality as an adolescent resembled that of my mother so much that after their divorce, it was almost too painful for him to bear. It explained why we were in more knock-down drag-out fights than the typical father/daughter duo would. When I moved in with my brother during my senior year of high school, the change between us was almost as clear as night and day. Then, when I moved to New York, and inevitably started touring nine months a year, we found our common ground. Although it was a shitty situation to be in, I was somewhat relieved that it brought my father and closer together once again.