Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121887 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 609(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 406(@300wpm)
“I’m his father,” the man told me.
“I got that,” I returned. “I also read loud and clear Javi doesn’t wish to speak to you.”
“We have things—” Javi’s father began.
I didn’t let him get further.
“If Javi wishes to discuss them with you, I sense he knows how to get hold of you, and he’ll do that. Right now, this isn’t happening.”
This dude was not getting it, I knew, when he asserted, “A man should have his father.”
“A boy should too,” I retorted, muscling in front of Javi and pushing him back with my body (or trying to, he didn’t budge much). “But Javi didn’t. And now I see you’ve realized the error of your ways, considering he’s grown up to be all he’s become, without your help. But it isn’t on Javi to make you feel better about it. If he makes that decision, he’ll contact you. Until then, you wait. And if he never calls, you deal.”
With that, I put all my weight into pushing Javi back and I slammed the door in his dad’s face.
I then locked it.
“The pizza guy was standing behind him,” Javi said.
Dang!
Okay, my (kinda?) man was hungry so I needed to feed him, but his father might still be out there.
I had to deal with this, so I pointed across the room.
“Go. Over there,” I ordered.
“Babe—”
“Go!” I snapped.
He pressed his lips together, though I didn’t miss his eyes lit with humor, and he went to stand where whoever was at the door couldn’t see him.
I braced to go up against his father again and opened the door to the pizza guy.
Fortunately, Javi’s father was gone.
“Just a sec, I don’t have any tip money on me,” I told him.
“I was tipped on the app,” he replied, handing me a massive pizza box that weighed a ton, because the pizza in it had to be huge, and there was a big bag on top filled with other stuff.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Don’t mention it,” he replied then hurried down the walk to his car at the curb, probably so he could pick up another order and bust his hump for a five-dollar tip in order to be able to afford a box of Cap’n Crunch.
Alternatively, maybe it was because he watched that scene and wanted to get out of there.
Javi took the box from me.
I closed the door, locked it and trailed him to the kitchen.
I wasn’t sure what to do in this situation because what I just witnessed wasn’t mine to have unless he gave it to me, even if I’d witnessed it.
So I stood opposite the island as Javi poured my wine (he didn’t have wineglasses), popped open a beer then threw open the box to the pizza, a Styrofoam container filled with mozzarella sticks, another one with boneless wings, the last one had two slices of chocolate cake, and we could not forget the plethora of containers of ranch dressing and marinara sauce.
He pulled down some plates, put one in front of me, one in front of him, and then he looked right at me.
“There were times when I was so fucking hungry, it felt like I had rats living in my gut, gnawing at it.”
Across the embarrassment of food in front of us, my body swayed from this unexpected blow.
“If we had food, if she was with it, Ma and me would fight about who would eat it. She wanted me to. I wanted her to. But it was never enough for the both of us.”
“Javi,” I whispered.
“More than once, I nearly caved and gave a guy a blowjob so I’d have the money to get us something to eat.”
Such was the weight of this, I closed my eyes and dropped my head.
“I didn’t, only because if Ma ever knew, it’d kill her,” he shared.
I didn’t know what to say.
“That’s who I am, Harlow.”
I opened my eyes and lifted my head.
“And you…” He didn’t finish that.
“Me, what?” I prompted softly.
Javi sidestepped by jabbing a finger at the door and saying, “That guy’s a fuckin’ millionaire. And he thinks he can show up when I got a life, a crew, a home, Ma’s safe, and play dad?”
“You get to decide that, sweetheart,” I pointed out.
His head jerked at the endearment, and my heart spasmed because he seemed in pain.
“You went to school with my two little sisters.”
Annnnnnnnnnnd…
There it was.
I didn’t know about his sisters, but Javi had a good deal of pent up (and justified) hostility about the life he was forced to lead versus what his siblings had.
And maybe some of that leaked out on me.
I continued to talk softly when I asked, “What are their names?”
“Julia and Catherine Atherton.”
Julia and Cath were both younger than me. We weren’t friends, but I knew them, and they were sweet.
I didn’t tell Javi that, and not only because he was still speaking.