A couple of weeks later, my mum and Amber come to visit us for dinner. I’ve already had my first scan, and the baby’s doing well. It’s marvellous how much Richard’s changing since we found out I’m pregnant. He’s attentive, affectionate, and sometimes even kind. He keeps telling me that it would have been the same when I was sixteen, but I chose to abort it instead. He never lets me forget what I did. I doubt he ever will.
“Look at you,” my mother swoons, placing her hand on my belly. “You’re showing.” She looks back up to me. “And you’re glowing, too. You look beautiful.”
“Thanks, Mum.”
“Hi,” Amber says, all solemn.
I look behind her at the door. “No Porter today?”
She sighs. “He’s not feeling well,” she explains, and I notice the scowl on Richard’s face. I can hazard a guess as to why he’s suddenly too ill to come. I can also guess why Amber’s looking so glum.
She looks me up and down and offers a fake smile. “Pregnancy suits you.”
“Thanks,” I answer. I know that took a lot for her to say. Deep down, she doesn’t give a shit about me or the baby because she’s too busy wondering why I got pregnant instead of her. She is right, though. I can give her that. I’m in no way worthy of becoming a mother. She was made to be one, whereas I am the worst example of mother material in the universe. I often wonder why Richard was so keen on getting me pregnant. I even asked him the other day. His answers:
“You were made to have my babies.”
“A baby is for life. You’ll never be able to escape me.”
“You’re fucking sexy all rounded with my baby inside you.”
“You owe me.”
He’s so primitive.
“How are things?” I ask my mum. I would have assumed she’d be cut up about the break up with David, but she seems calm and collected.
She gives an audible sigh before sitting down on the sofa. Richard offers her a gin and tonic, and she smiles sweetly up at him. I know that look. She’s still pining over her ex-husband.
My husband.
This has seriously got to be the most fucked up situation anyone could ever be in.
“To tell you the truth, it’s been in the cards for a while now. I guess our last argument really just made it come to a head.”
“Was it really that bad?” I ask, purposefully being nosey. I already know the argument was about me and Richard, but I doubt very much she’ll say those words.
She looks down with a disgusted look on her face. “He said some things. Some terrible things. It’s just not something you can come back from.”
Quite.
Little does she know, he’s telling her the truth. Inwardly, I’m shaking my head. Despite the ongoing allegations of what he did to me, she still continues to bury her head in the sand. It pisses me off. It also pisses me off that despite wanting so desperately for her to find out what a monster her ex is, being here with Richard is still giving me tunnel vision. My mission was simple. Get with the family, make them believe I want to be a part of it again, and then bam—hit them with everything I’ve got. I knew having my father in my life would shake things up, but I never saw this coming. I never thought I would want him with a passion that consumed me. Even now, staring at him from across the room, the tension and the heat between us is palpable.
Tearing my eyes away from him, I look back to my mother and notice she’s staring at me—scrutinising my face. Can she see it? I flit my eyes away from her, but it seems I’ve already been caught.
“What are your future plans, Scarlet?” I gaze upon my mother who’s crossed legged with her gin and tonic resting on her knee. I know why she’s asking. She caught me staring at my father in a way that no daughter should ever be staring. I bet now she thinks I’m the one who’s obsessed with him.
I’m about to respond, but Richard beats me to it. “Her future is here as long as she wants it to be. I’ll even help raise the baby.”
My mother scoffs. “Surely Scarlet doesn’t want that? She may be a single mother now, but that won’t always be the case. She’ll eventually meet someone and want to settle down with them. As long as she’s living here with her dad, that will be an unlikely event.”
I see my dad grip his drink in his hand, his jaw slightly ticking in anger. I can’t help the smirk that rises on my face when I know no one’s looking. Well, no one except my dad. He catches me just as I’m trying to suppress the smile. That just causes his jaw to tick even further.
“After everything that’s happened and all of the things that Scarlet’s been through, she needs her family now. The baby will be here in a few months, and Scarlet will need help to raise him.”
“Yes, but that’s only a temporary solution.”
My father grits his teeth. “She lives here as long as she wants to. If it’s for the rest of my days, so be it.”
My mother starts laughing. “No single girl of Scarlet’s age would ever want to live with her father on a permanent basis.”
I have to laugh at this bickering. It’s like being back at home when they were once married. I also can’t help but laugh at the fact that they’re talking about me as if I’m not here. My life is being rearranged by my parents, and I obviously have no say in the matter.
“Why not?” he answers, standing from his seated position. I watch as he takes a swig of his whiskey, all the while enjoying the show. I told him this would eventually happen, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He waves his drink around the room. “This house is plenty big enough. In fact, it was made for a family. It’s too big for just me to rattle around in. Besides, I have plenty of money from my book royalties. It’s more than enough to take care of our daughter and grandchild.”
A slight giggle leaves my lips, causing me to try and capture it with my mouth. It’s too late, though. Everyone’s noticed.
“What’s so funny?” my mother asks.
Erm, maybe it’s something to do with the fact my father’s just referred to his baby as his grandchild.
How fucked up is that? I don’t say that of course. “It’s just like being back home again, that’s all.” I smile, trying to make light of the situation.
I wonder if my mum will be pissed with me, but her angered state soon turns softer. When she smiles, Richard rewards me with a grateful smile himself. I didn’t mean to get him off the hook. In fact, I was rather hoping this conversation would escalate, but I’ve inadvertently saved the day.
“What memories,” my mother chimes. “I’ll never forget the day you bought me that swimming pool, Richard.”
I stare daggers at my dad. I remember that day. I remember it too well. It was the day he threatened to cut my nipples with a pair of scissors because he was jealous someone was flirting with me. Like it was my fault. My mother was practically offering her daughter on a plate to her friend’s son, and yet it still ended up being my fault. Despite the fact we had a house full of people, he still had to leave his mark.
Inside of me.
“We did have quite the parties, didn’t we, Wendy?”
I almost shake my head at him. He’s playing along even though I know for a fact he doesn’t want to go down memory lane with her. At least not in the same sense.
I notice the look my father gives me when he says this. A look that says it all. He remembers all those days for the same reasons I do. Often my parents would have parties, and often it would end up with my mother and Amber getting so drunk they would end up passing out, and so, in the dead of night, he would visit me. Those times, he was always desperate. He never did last long because it was always frenzied like he’d been waiting so long to have me to himself.
I think back on the moment when I went to him instead of the other way around. Everything shifted that day. That’s when the new Scarlet was born. I trained myself to enjoy it. If I had to endure it, then why not try and have fun with it? I know that doesn’t make any logical sense, but I was fifteen and being constantly abused. In fact, whenever my father wasn’t around, I would sometimes watch porn just so I could see how it really is. I knew it wasn’t really like that in real life, but I wanted to get a sense of what sex was supposed to be like. I watched hundreds of videos, surprised at what it would stir up inside of me. Often when my father came home, I would be ready for him. Wet, willing, and able. It was so much easier living with him like that. I never came, but sometimes I would come close. It was so hard to hide my moans, and often afterwards, I would be so disgusted at myself for liking it that I would scrub myself raw. I continued that cycle anyway because although I was disgusted with myself for liking what he was doing to me, it was easier to live with in the end. He would come to me. I would want it. I’d be appalled and nauseated by myself afterwards. Then, the cycle would repeat.
“I loved those days,” my mother says, breaking me out of my trance. “Do you remember that summer party we had where Amber had her first kiss? You were such an over-protective dad. With both of them.”
I lock eyes with my dad, remembering that night too. It was the night he caught me masturbating. I knew he would come, but that night, I had been so pissed off and jealous that he had been fussing over Amber that I lashed out in the only way I knew how. He had walked in, and I had been naked, sprawled out on my bed with my fingers between my legs and the other hand squeezing my nipple. I thought he would get angry when he caught me. I had flinched as his eyes trailed down my body. He had closed the door, and instead of getting me to stop, he demanded that I carry on. I didn’t want to touch myself in front of him, but with hooded eyes, he made me carry on. He made me do it until I orgasmed by my own hand. He had fucked me after that. It was rough, and it didn’t last long. I remember the feeling of the tingles still radiating through me when he was thrusting his way in.
Yes, so many memories—all of which are fucked up.
“I thought it was disrespectful of him to come into my home and kiss my daughter like that.”
My mum giggles. I can tell she’s already getting tipsy. “You were such a good father.”
I almost choke on her words, but manage to keep them down.
Richard smiles like this is the best news. It was an award winning eye-roll moment, that’s for sure.
When he excuses himself to get another drink, my mother soon hops up, desperate to be alone with him. I knew she was itching to talk, and it doesn’t take a psychic to know what the topic is.
“Looks like Mum wants to get back with Dad,” Amber pipes, suddenly smiling. “It would be nice if they got back together. Don’t you think?”
I shrug, trying to be cool about the whole thing, but I know what I would really like to say. “I personally can’t see that happening.”
“Why?” she asks, arching her eyebrow at me.
“Because they broke up years ago, perhaps?”
“Doesn’t mean anything. Lots of couples get back together after being apart for years. For them, it makes sense. They have two daughters with each other. A history.”
I scoff at that. I don’t mean to, but it just comes out. Amber scrunches her face up at my small outburst. “Do you know what I think?” she asks.
“What?” I don’t give a shit, but I’ll amuse her.
“I think you’re jealous. You always were when it came to Dad. You were jealous of their relationship,” she says, pointing in the direction of where our parents have just gone. “And you were jealous of Dad and me, too.” I start laughing, almost hysterically. I guess in some measure she’s correct about herself and Dad, but only because he showed her the attention I always craved.
“What’s so funny?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Nothing. It’s just that … both you and Mum … you’re so deluded.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing,” I emphasise again, getting up. I’ve already had enough of Amber for one sitting. “I need the toilet,” I say as a way of escape. If she pushes me any further, I’ll push right back. And in no way will she be happy with what I have to say.
But, Amber being Amber does push. “Tell me,” she demands, yanking at my arm and swinging me to face her. When I give her my most evil stare, I revel in the fact she almost cowers.
“You really want to know?” I’m so fucking angry with her right now that I don’t give a fucking shit. I step forward and she steps back. I’m taller than she is, and with my anger, I seem to have grown even higher. I can see the slight fear as I keep stepping forward. “This baby,” I say, pointing to my stomach, “is your niece.” I see her frown like she’s wondering why I’m pointing out the obvious. “But, guess what, big sis? You’re also going to be its sister.” When I see the complete confusion on her face, I start to laugh. The whole situation is laughable.
When it finally clicks into place what I’m saying, she stands her ground. “You’re fucking sick, do you know that?”
“If you don’t believe me, ask Daddy Dearest.”
“You and I both know I would never ask such a preposterous thing.”
I wave my hand in front of me. “Suit yourself.” I start to walk away again, but she’s obviously not finished with me.
“Why—with everything he’s doing for you now—would you still say such a God-awful thing about him? He’s providing a roof over your head and offering his support. Lord knows why, since you’re obviously still not appreciative of what he’s doing. He’s your dad, and yet you treat him with nothing but contempt.”
I turn, smirking, as I make my way back towards her. “Oh, quite the contrary, sis. Contempt is definitely not a word I would use when he’s in between my legs each night.”
She gasps, taking a couple of steps back. “You fucking sick bitch.”
“Why, thank you.”
She’s about to open her mouth when Daddy Dearest himself walks in. He can sense the tension and frowns. “Is everything okay?”
Amber goes to open her mouth, but I beat her to it before she can say anything stupid. “Everything’s fine,” I say. “We were just talking about you and Mum and debating whether or not you’re talking about getting back together.”
All colour drains from his face, making me smile. “That’s not going to happen.”
I smile. “That’s what I said.”
My mum emerges from behind Richard, looking all frazzled and upset about something.
“Are you okay, Mum?” Amber asks, rushing towards her.
“I’m fine,” she says, waving her hand about. “Just a little tired, that’s all. I guess the breakup’s finally getting to me.”
Amber coos and fusses around her as Dad rolls his eyes at her. I give him a look as if to say I know the real reason why she’s upset. She must have come onto him, and he rebuffed her. I don’t know why that makes me feel good inside.
Without meaning to, I smile a genuine smile, but Richard catches me. When he spots how happy I am in that moment, he smiles right back, victorious in the notion that I’m happy he wants to be with me rather than her.
Busted.
At that precise moment, my baby seems to want to say hello. I feel a little flutter across my stomach. Not a kick, but a definite fluttering. It’s almost like butterflies in my stomach.
“Oh,” I say, placing a hand there.
Richard, looking worried, comes racing for me. “What’s the matter?” he asks, placing a protective hand there.
He looks into my eyes, searching for answers. There’s genuine concern there, which makes me smile. “I felt something—like a fluttering movement—inside of me.”
“Really?” His face lights up, and in that moment, you could never guess that a true devil is lurking inside of him. He looks simply boyish with his massive grin as he places his hand there.
“It’s too early for the baby to kick, but I definitely felt something.”
We both smile at each other, but at the same time, we remember that we’re not alone in the room. We both turn our heads, looking in the direction of Mum and Amber. Sure enough, they’re watching us, and their faces are a picture!
Suddenly, as if something’s dawned on Mum, she gets up. “Do you mind if we skip dinner? I’m not feeling too well.”
Amber, looking back from Dad to me eventually turns to Mum, nodding her head. “Sure, Mum. Let’s get you home.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dad asks, walking up to them.
Mum gives him a strange look, but she nods her head. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get some sleep. I haven’t been sleeping too well lately.”
Although nothing’s being said, you can certainly feel it. There’s tension in the air with lots of unsaid questions and answers floating around the room. If I could feel it, surely Richard could.
Momentarily, I gaze upon him, and he looks back. I see it in his eyes.
He’s made a mistake.
Yes, on any other occasion it could have looked like a concerned father over his daughter and grandchild. But not the way he had his hand on me. Not the way he was looking at me with nothing but love on his face. And certainly not the way his whole persona practically screamed at just how happy a father he is.
I watch as Richard sees them both out, but not before noticing the look on Amber’s face when she passes me. It’s a mixture of disgust and hatred. I don’t much care. She was never a good sister to me anyway.
I hear the door close, but Richard doesn’t come back into the room at first. I have no doubt that he’s stewing in the hallway over what’s just transpired.
Eventually, he emerges with an accusatory look on his face. “Did you do that on purpose?”
I shake my head at him. He’s unbelievable. “What?”
“That,” he says, pointing at my stomach. “Did you really feel something, or was it one big show for them?”
“Honestly, I would love to say yes to the latter, but it seems our baby loves irony just as much as I do. It couldn’t have picked a better opportunity than that.”
He points an angry finger at me. “This is not the time to joke, Scarlet. This is fucking serious.”
I watch as he runs his fingers through his hair. I’ve never seen him so distressed. He’s losing his precious Amber. He can feel it.
“I did warn you this would happen,” I say, knowing he won’t like the “I told you so.”
Knowing he has a temper on him, I expect him to rant and rave, so I’m surprised when all he does is walk out of the room. I hear keys being jangled and then the door slamming, which makes me jump.
“Poor Daddy,” I say, smiling. I may love making him smile, but I equally love making him squirm.
After all, he does deserve it.