Sweet Forgiveness by Spielman Lori Nelson

Author:Spielman, Lori Nelson [Spielman, Lori Nelson]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2015-04-30T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

It happened in July, on a whim, something I did impulsively, without malice or premeditation. At least I can say that.

We’d gone up north, a phrase Michiganders use when talking about the fingertips of the mitten-shaped state. Bob owned a tiny cabin in Harbour Cove, a sleepy old fishing village on the shores of Lake Michigan. Miles from town, his rustic place sat on a murky lake meant for fishing, not swimming. Bob had to be out of his mind to think anyone—let alone a thirteen-year-old girl—would want to spend her summer in this no-man’s-land. The only person remotely close to my age was a ten-year-old girl next door named Tracy.

For three days, the humidity had been stifling. We’d been hit with a record-breaking heat spell not even the air conditioner could tame. Bob and my mom had gone to the movie theater to see Sleepless in Seattle. Bob invited me to tag along, almost pleaded that I join them. “Come on, Sister, I’ll buy you some popcorn. Heck, I’ll even throw in some Junior Mints.”

“I hate Junior Mints,” I said, never looking up from my YM magazine.

He tried to act disappointed, but I knew he was relieved I wouldn’t be tagging along. He was nothing but a phony. He probably wished I’d die . . . or at least be shipped off to Atlanta.

I called my dad that night. It was an hour earlier his time, and he had just gotten off the golf course.

“Hey, how’s my girl?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I miss you, Dad. When can we come to Atlanta?”

“Anytime you want, cupcake. The ball’s in your mom’s court. You know that, don’t you? I want you here, and your mother, too. I love you both. You work on her, won’t you, doll?”

I started to tell him about my awful summer, but he cut me off. “Hold on,” he said. He covered the phone and spoke to someone in the background. He laughed, then came back to me. “Call me tomorrow, won’t you, sweetie? We’ll talk then.”

I hung up the phone, feeling more alone than ever. I was losing my father, I could tell. He seemed more distant now, not nearly as desperate for my mom and me to move home. I had to do something before he forgot all about us.

I flopped down on the sofa and turned on the television. I stared at the ceiling, listening to Married . . . with Children, while tears pushed past my temples and drained into my ears.

At some point, I fell asleep. I startled when I heard the car pull in the driveway. I sat up and stretched, my skin damp and sticky from my nap and the night’s relentless heat. The television was still on, tuned to Saturday Night Live. I spied my bra on the arm of the sofa, where I’d tossed it after taking it off earlier. I grabbed it and stuffed it under the sofa cushion.

I heard their laughter as they approached the screen door.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.