Chapitre 20: 20
Dad and I sit in the hard plastic seats of the stadium, cheering the teams on with the rest of the crowd. It's a beautiful October afternoon, and dad's scored some prize tickets to postseason game. It's the Padres versus the Astros, and the Astros are getting crushed. The stadium is huge; it's packed to capacity and people are going nuts over every play. Even the announcer is hyper today.
I've got a hot dog in one hand and a Coke in the other, alternating between watching the game and inhaling my food. Dad's opted for a cold beer and a plate of nachos. We watch the game closely, waiting for that magical moment when the underdog rises from the ashes and dropkicks the winning team.
I love this. It's the only time I get to spend some quality time with my dad. Usually, he's out of town on business, but he makes up for it every month by taking me to games and trying to beat me at air hockey. For a businessman, I've got a freaking awesome dad.
I turn to smile at him. He's beaten me to the punch, grinning at me with his signature smile and warm hazel eyes. My eyes. I smile back through a mouthful of hotdog, excited and relieved to be here. We're alone for a few precious hours. Just us and the teams fighting for our attention. It's a rare treat.
There's a crack down in the field. As we've guessed, the Astros are starting to gain ground. It's only the sixth inning. They still have time to catch up...
Cool fingers brush my shoulder. Warm breath tickles my ear.
"Amelia."
Dad's phone goes off. Hi's smile fades and he rolls his eyes as his fishes his blackberry from his pocket. His infamous scowl has arrived as he answers the phone.
"Yes?" He pauses. "Hello, honey."
I drop my head and scowl at the dirty stadium floor. Of course it's mom. Who else would call at four in the afternoon because she's feeling lonely? God, she's so needy! I'm surprised that she's even able to watch us walk out the door before having another false alarm.
"Yes, yes I know." Dad's as irritated as I am. "Lisa, we've talked about this. Amelia and I have one day a week where we get to hang out together. We'll be home in a couple of hours."
I set my food aside and cup my chin in my hands. I love my mom, I really do. I mean, she's my mom. But she has a fantastic ability to ruin every single good time I'm having with my dad. Today's interruption is especially irritating: dad's just come home from a business meeting in Boston, and it's our first father-daughter quality time in two months.
"Lisa, please calm down. This is a tradition we've had for years. Please don't ruin it for us."
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice dad has caught sight of me. He's seen my scowl, my eyes. He knows how upset I am. He's been dealing with mom's behavior since long before I was born. How he stands it, I'll never know.
Dada takes in a deep breath. "Lisa, I'm sorry! I'm not going to rush home and waste time I could be spending with our daughter on another one of your panic attacks. We'll see you at home!"
He disconnects the call and shuts his phone off, grinning at me. I'm smiling so wide my face should be splitting in two. He's managed to grow his spine back and shut mom's neediness down for the moment. I'm elated.
"What did she want?" I can't help but be curious.
He shrugs. "She said Mrs. Hoppen was harassing her again. Wanted me to come down and talk to the old lady."
I roll my eyes. "She does know that if she'd stop stealing all of her tomatoes, Mrs. Hoppen would stop complaining."
Dad gives a wicked smile. "Somehow, I don't think she cares."
"Amelia."
The fingers become more insistent, traveling down my shoulder and spinning teasing circles around my breasts. I groan and shift slightly, rolling onto my stomach so I can dream in peace.
There's another crack of the bat. The batter goes flying down the line, racing past the first baseman and rounding the corner to second.
"Why do you think-"
"Your mother complains about fighting with neighbors when she's the one who starts them? No idea, kiddo." Dad sighs and picks up another nacho. "It's something about your mother that's driven me nuts for years."
"Then why don't you get divorced?" The question comes out before I can stop myself. I'm horrified, and I clap my hand over my mouth and hang my head.
Dad's silent for a moment. "Is that what you want, Amelia?"
I'm almost in tears. "No. I'm sorry, I-"I can't even finish. I'm grounded for sure.
"Hey," Dad loops his arm over my shoulder. "It's okay, kiddo. I know what you're thinking."
"Amelia." Those cool hands slide under my body and cup my breasts gently.
I groan softly. "What?"
Icy lips press against my neck. "Time to get up, my queen."
I groan louder and bury my face in the pillow. "Why? It's only eight."
Musical laughter echoes in my ears, wrapping around my mind and caressing it awake. "You only wish. It's nearly ten."
Ten? Shit.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone