THIRTY-EIGHT
Belle
“Are you going to talk to me like you said you would?” I lean against my door, wiping away what remains of my tears with the backs of my hands.
“I’m trying to decide what exactly to say.”
Awesome. This should be good then.
“Do you think that helped?” he finally asks. “After how you’ve been the past few weeks?”
“You’re giving me the third degree like I’m ten.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” he snaps. “But unlike some people, I still look at you as my daughter.”
“Nice,” I deadpan. “Going for the low blow there, Dad.”
“Fucker promised he’d keep it civil,” he mutters as he stares out the side window.
“I heard that.”
“I wasn’t trying to keep it from you.” He sighs, squeezing his hands around the wheel. “I just…. He surprised me, you know? We’ve been friends for such a long time, but put you between us and he’s a completely different guy.”
“You don’t exactly help in the whole ‘staying friends’ department, you know.”
“It’s difficult.” Silence ensues as he navigates an intersection. “I went to see him the other week and the two of us put a bit of a thing into action for you; something to cheer you up.”
“Right.” About the only thing that could supercharge me with any emotion other than melancholy right now would be the news I’m moving in with Zeus.
Somehow, I don’t think that’s it.
“Zeus showed me how to use Instagram,” Dad announces as though he’s proud his Generation X arse managed to tackle a new platform. “I found your profile and did some digging.”
My heart seizes in my chest before smashing itself against the confines of my ribcage. What the hell did he find? I mentally catalogue all of the shit I post on there, trying to pre-empt what he’ll say next.
“I looked at who you follow, and found this Chris Ellerhope guy.”
“Okay?” I’m lost. So damn lost I can’t remember how we started out on this topic anymore. “And?” Chris is one of the best tattooists alive in my opinion. His work is epic.
“I sent him a D… what is it is?”
“DM?”
“Yeah.” Dad snaps his fingers. “That’s it.”
“I can’t believe how technologically challenged you are,” I say with a chuckle. “You’re not that old.”
“Maybe.” He smiles. “But I’ve never been into that whole scene.”
“Anyway. What did you say to him?” I press the side of my finger under my eyes, frustrated they’ll be a puffy mess tomorrow.
“Told him I had a daughter who needs an apprenticeship.”
I want to die. My father has officially shamed me with an ink god. I purposefully didn’t contact him myself because there’s no way my talent could ever measure up to his.
“He asked to see your art.”
“Really?” What the hell would I send him? Which pictures would I choose?
“So I sent him a shot of those sketches you have above the desk in your room.”
“They’re not finished,” I cry. “Oh my God, Dad, no.”
He laughs, reaching across to pat my knee. “It’s okay. He liked them.”
“He did?” This isn’t my life.
“He doesn’t have space to work under him, but he got you a position with a friend of his at a shop nearby so he could still oversee your learning.”
“Are you fucking with me?” I can’t believe how far the spectrum of emotion has gone for me in the past half hour. From feeling at absolute rock bottom when he dragged me away from Zeus, to being on a high at this unreal news.
“I’m not pranking you, Belle. I’m being real here.”
“So why involve Zeus?” I ask the question that burns as hot as the searing pain in my bones the further and further away we drive from the man I want.
My legs itch to jump from the truck and run back to him, yet this revelation from Dad keeps me rooted to the seat as we wait at a red light.
“Well,” Dad says, lifting his eyebrows. “When I sent the message to the guy, I didn’t realise he’s in Colorado.”
“Dad….”
“You know I can’t afford that.”
“Cerise can.”
“I’m not asking her for help,” he snaps.
“Why?”
He swallows hard, glancing across at me as we start to move again. “She hasn’t wanted to do a damn thing to help you this far, I’m not letting her have this. We’ll figure it out on our own, like we always have.” He hesitates, his thoughts clearly elsewhere as he gazes out the window. “I thought I could make a go of things with her for your sake, fix the problems from before, but….” He seems to choke on the next words, a frown pulling his brow down. “She hasn’t changed, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I sigh. “She hates me. Always has.”
He looks across at me, the concern clear in his eyes.
“It’s okay,” I reassure him. “I’ve made peace with it.” And I have. I didn’t need her for the last ten years. Didn’t need her for the milestone moments in my life. She can take a long jump off a tall cliff for all I care. “Why Zeus?” I ask again.
“Zeus is going to pay for you to fly there.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“He knows as well as I do that if we wait until you’ve got a job, saved enough, too much time will pass. He wants you to go there and grab the opportunity with both hands. So do I.” Dad smiles across at me. “This guy is talented, Belle. Not just in his artwork, but as a businessman; you could learn a lot from him.” He reaches out and takes my hand in his. “Spend a few years there. Chris will help you do the paperwork to get in on a work visa. He seems excited to take you on. Do the work and come back with the base you need to start your own shop.”
I can’t comprehend. I can’t deal.
I hang on to Dad’s hand and stare out the window at the world as it passes us by, oblivious to the emotional torment being in the cab of this truck brings.
I’d be leaving Zeus, but he’s paying for me to go. What’s his end game? Does he want this for me so I can come back to him and start the shop out of his studio like we talked about? Would he wait for me?
He’s made no indication he would, but a girl has to hope.
“I’m speechless, Dad. I really don’t know what to say.”
“How about, ‘Thanks, Dad’?” he teases.
“Thanks, Dad.” I lean across and place a kiss to his cheek.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart. Now go knock the world on its arse.”
***
My hand shakes as I hold my phone over my head, laid out on my bed while I debate whether I should send a thank you message to Zeus or not. It would be the polite thing to do, but Dad seemed pretty adamant when he reminded me as we got out of the truck that he doesn’t want me to deal with Zeus; he would do it all.
Fuck it. You only live once.
B: Thank you. I’m still thinking about it, but the offer is generous.
His dots dance immediately, making my heart skip a beat.
Z: What is there to think about? Take the opportunity, Belle.
B: Are you sure you can afford this? You sunk all your money into the house.
I ignore his obvious neglect of my nickname.
Z: Not your concern.
B: You aren’t jacking cars again to pay for it, are you?
Z: Ha ha. Close, but no.
B: What have you done? *taps foot*
Z: Sold the GTO.
B: What? You’re pulling my leg.
Z: I had it there tonight to meet the guy and go through the paperwork. He wanted one last look at it before he signed. I had plans, but I can spare some cash for you.
B: Zeus…
Fuck my tears. Fuck him and his ability to make me all mushy.
Z: Goodnight, Belle. And good luck.
I give up trying to reply when I lose focus of my phone. He signed off with the damn heart and the dove.
Damn him. Damn everyone and everything.
I throw my arms over my eyes and sob as my heart is tugged in multiple directions. Why does life have to be so hard? Is this what people talk about when they say teenagers have no idea what it’s like to be an adult? Because if this is adulting, I quit.
“Everything okay?” Dad asks, breaking me out of my pity party for one.
I throw a thumb in the air, my other arm still over my eyes.
“Can I do anything?” he asks from the relative safety of my doorway.
“Message Chris, and Zeus,” I say, taking a moment to regain myself after choking on his name, “and let them know I’ll do it. I’ll go to the States.”
Colorado, here I come.