it’s not her? Because clearly it is not. But the longer Sarah is here, the more content Scout has become in this arrangement, and I’m not comfortable with that.
At all.
“Look,” she says opening the door and holding up a big shopping bag. “Your Christmas presents are in here, but you can’t see them until then. Sarah and I are going to be wrapping presents after supper in my room, so don’t come in.”
I smile, getting up and going over to where she’s standing, with one hand on her hip. I take a hand and muss through her hair. “Is that right? Looks like you ladies broke the bank at the mall.”
“Don’t worry, Sarah used her charge for most of it.”
Fuck that shit. Time for a talk.
“She did, huh? Why don’t you put that stuff in your room, and then ask Sarah if she has a minute? I want to talk to her about something.”
Scout’s expression clouds up a bit, but she does as asked. In less than a minute, Sarah is popping her head inside my room, decked out in another pair of new jeans and the red sweater from her previous shopping trip that gives ample view of her cleavage.
“Did you need to see me, Jesse?” she asks softly.
“Yeah, come in and close the door.”
She does and then looks at me, her expression morphs to one of uncertainty and maybe a little fear. “Did I do something wrong?”
I sigh, sitting at my computer desk, I push back in my chair and rub a hand through my hair. “Look, Sarah, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, or pry into your business or anything like that, but I need to ask how you intend to pay these credit card bills that are going to be rolling in at the end of the month.”
Her face flushes and for a second I feel her shoot a dagger look at me. “I’m not stupid, Jesse. I understand the concept of credit card bills. I’ll just send them to Mama and she’ll pay them with the money she gets for me each month.”
“Not following,” and I feel the frown creasing my brow.
“Oh, maybe I did forget to tell you this,” she says with some hesitance. “Well, you see, when I talked to Mama last week, she told me that my Social Security Disability got approved. So now money goes into her bank account at the first of each month. Several hundred dollars I think.”
“Sarah, is your mother back in Mississippi?” I ask.
“No. Of course not. She’s still in Memphis. But she does have someone getting her mail, I guess.”
“I see.”
Several moments of silence pass before she speaks again.
“No, I don’t think you do see,” she replies, her eyes now welling up. “You’ve been hateful to me ever since I got here. I don’t know what I’ve done to you in the past to make you hate me so much, Jesse, but what can I do to gain your forgiveness? Tell me what can I do.”
She’s full-fledged bawling now and, within seconds, Scout’s back in the room. “Why is Sarah crying, Dad? What did you say to her?”
“I-I, hell, I just asked her about her damn credit card is all,” I reply, standing up to make my case, as if I should even have to do that with my eleven-year-old daughter.
Scout puts her arms around Sarah, and shoots me a nasty look. I’m getting a shitload of those these days. “Hey, Lib—I mean Sarah , I apologize for that. It’s none of my business and I really wasn’t trying to come off as an ass,” I say, hoping that will slow down the waterworks, but fuck if it does.
“Come on, Sarah,” Scout says, pulling her hand. “Let’s go make something to eat.” She shuts the door behind her rather abruptly and I realize I’ve hit another shit list. How many does that make now?
Fuck this.
I grab my jacket from the back of the chair and, without going through the kitchen, leave through the front door, walking around the side of the house toward the driveway and fuck if Casey isn’t taking her trash out as I get there.
“Well hey, Jesse” she greets with a smile. “Haven’t seen much of you around lately.”
“I’ve been here,
At all.
“Look,” she says opening the door and holding up a big shopping bag. “Your Christmas presents are in here, but you can’t see them until then. Sarah and I are going to be wrapping presents after supper in my room, so don’t come in.”
I smile, getting up and going over to where she’s standing, with one hand on her hip. I take a hand and muss through her hair. “Is that right? Looks like you ladies broke the bank at the mall.”
“Don’t worry, Sarah used her charge for most of it.”
Fuck that shit. Time for a talk.
“She did, huh? Why don’t you put that stuff in your room, and then ask Sarah if she has a minute? I want to talk to her about something.”
Scout’s expression clouds up a bit, but she does as asked. In less than a minute, Sarah is popping her head inside my room, decked out in another pair of new jeans and the red sweater from her previous shopping trip that gives ample view of her cleavage.
“Did you need to see me, Jesse?” she asks softly.
“Yeah, come in and close the door.”
She does and then looks at me, her expression morphs to one of uncertainty and maybe a little fear. “Did I do something wrong?”
I sigh, sitting at my computer desk, I push back in my chair and rub a hand through my hair. “Look, Sarah, I’m not trying to hurt your feelings, or pry into your business or anything like that, but I need to ask how you intend to pay these credit card bills that are going to be rolling in at the end of the month.”
Her face flushes and for a second I feel her shoot a dagger look at me. “I’m not stupid, Jesse. I understand the concept of credit card bills. I’ll just send them to Mama and she’ll pay them with the money she gets for me each month.”
“Not following,” and I feel the frown creasing my brow.
“Oh, maybe I did forget to tell you this,” she says with some hesitance. “Well, you see, when I talked to Mama last week, she told me that my Social Security Disability got approved. So now money goes into her bank account at the first of each month. Several hundred dollars I think.”
“Sarah, is your mother back in Mississippi?” I ask.
“No. Of course not. She’s still in Memphis. But she does have someone getting her mail, I guess.”
“I see.”
Several moments of silence pass before she speaks again.
“No, I don’t think you do see,” she replies, her eyes now welling up. “You’ve been hateful to me ever since I got here. I don’t know what I’ve done to you in the past to make you hate me so much, Jesse, but what can I do to gain your forgiveness? Tell me what can I do.”
She’s full-fledged bawling now and, within seconds, Scout’s back in the room. “Why is Sarah crying, Dad? What did you say to her?”
“I-I, hell, I just asked her about her damn credit card is all,” I reply, standing up to make my case, as if I should even have to do that with my eleven-year-old daughter.
Scout puts her arms around Sarah, and shoots me a nasty look. I’m getting a shitload of those these days. “Hey, Lib—I mean Sarah , I apologize for that. It’s none of my business and I really wasn’t trying to come off as an ass,” I say, hoping that will slow down the waterworks, but fuck if it does.
“Come on, Sarah,” Scout says, pulling her hand. “Let’s go make something to eat.” She shuts the door behind her rather abruptly and I realize I’ve hit another shit list. How many does that make now?
Fuck this.
I grab my jacket from the back of the chair and, without going through the kitchen, leave through the front door, walking around the side of the house toward the driveway and fuck if Casey isn’t taking her trash out as I get there.
“Well hey, Jesse” she greets with a smile. “Haven’t seen much of you around lately.”
“I’ve been here,
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