Chapter 1
I pulled up to the familiar driveway. As I glanced at the blue and white Cape Cod home, lit partly by streetlights, the queen palm fronds swayed in the light breeze. The large bougainvillea vine crept up the trellis near the garage. Florida winter had arrived, but so far temperatures hovered in the sixties.
My daughter, Chel, unbuckled her seat belt and pushed back the brown hair that covered her eyes.
“Bye, Chel,” Noah said to her.
“Bye, Uncle Noah,” she mumbled.
I walked Chel to the door, making sure that I looked down as I approached the uneven steps close to the house. One step had a large crack I’d never gotten the chance to fix. As we got close to the door, I bent down, and gave her a hard hug. “I love you,” I said.
“I love you too, Daddy.” Her hair caught some light from the incandescent porch light. “Are you coming to see my play? I play one of the pilgrims.”
“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world and I’ll bring Uncle Noah.
“Well, yeah, but you know Mommy doesn’t like him much.”
“Mommy doesn’t like Daddy either. But we’ll both be there.”
The door swung open. Elena came forward, wrapped in a bathrobe, then stood with her legs apart, arms folded, her forehead furrowed. Her face and eyes were obscured. “Jeez, Jake, it’s almost midnight. Nine-year-olds don’t belong out this late! Didn’t we agree you’d drop her off at eight?” She ushered Chel in the house.
“Sorry, but after watching the movies, she wanted some ice cream, and—”
Elena scowled. Her face now illuminated by pale yellow light. “Spare me.” She turned to Chel who stood near the door, and shouted, “Chelsea Summer, go put on your pajamas!”
Our daughter waved goodbye to me from behind Elena’s back. Elena didn’t see Chel wave. All the better. She was angry at me for a lot of reasons. Tonight was no exception.
“You’re late on the child support too,” she said. She stepped back into the house. “Do you think you’ll have a check by the time you pick up your daughter tomorrow?”
I’d barely answered yes when the door slammed in my face.