[Heartache Secrets 1] Badboy, His Secrets and My Heart

6: Daddy Dearest

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Scarlett

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"So?"

"So what?"

"Is he good?"

"What? Who?"

"Ethan. Is he a good kisser? You guys literally touched second base in the school's parking lot," Barbara Figgs wiggled her eyebrows just as her blond hair was getting whipped by the wind.

Oh no!

"What are you talking about, Barbie?" I tried to dodge the inquiry by walking away.

"Come on Scarlett, the whole school witnessed the snogging," she said falling beside me. The tips of my ears burned as my cheeks heated up. This s**t was embarrassing.

We just kissed. Okay. That was an understatement. It was just a kiss but not the whole school but err- quite a lot of people saw us. Jeez!

What do I even tell her?

"Hey! You're late," Ethan jogged up to me with a huge grin on his face. I offered a strained smile that made me look constipated. He looked at me as if he was double checking whether I was actually myself.

Slowly his eyes reached Barbie's blue ones as his grin faded into a settled smirk. "Hey there! Ethan right? I've heard a lot about you," Barbie's eyes gleamed with mischief as her mouth twisted into a snigger.

"Just heard? Come on, I thought you could do better than that, Barley."

I bit my cheeks so hard that I swear that I almost tasted blood to control laughing. "Barley?!" She repeated slowly.

"My name is Barbie. Not some stupid grain," she blasted before stomping off in the opposite direction from where her class was supposed to be. I cracked up laughing as she turned to the next hallway, out of my sight. "Seriously though? Barley?"

He gave me a shrug before taking my books from my hand to his. "I'll carry them."

Should I deduce something about this? I mean he just offered to carry my books the day after he kissed me. Brushing it off, I entwined my fingers with his knuckles grazing mine. The edge of his lips slightly curled before giving a squeeze back.

**

"I wanted to ask you something," he said getting in beside me. "Do you like art?"

What sort of a question is that?

"Yeah. I do, I think. I like to appreciate art but I suck at drawing. Or painting. I can sketch architecture though."

"So do you like Warner Shawn's paintings?" "Oh my god, he is a f*****g modern day Picasso. His architecture is just," I put on a dreamy eyed look after l*****g my lips.

"I like him too," he nodded back, his eyes never leaving mine.

"How do you know him- oh. I completely forgot that you are an AP art student," I chuckled. "You do English Literature," he said pointedly, "you still seem to like art."

"I do. I do. My mom loved to sketch. She was an interior designer though. My dad had my mom to design his office. Like his building. That's how they met. She designed the whole exterior architecture too. One thing led to another and my mom had my sister. Then they got hitched," I told him, remembering are Friday barbecues.

Me and my sister fighting for the best piece. My mom in her Capri pants and a paled t-shirt pacifying us. My dad in his white wife beater seeing to the grill occasionally sipping on his beer mug.

I missed us.

"So art!" I landed on earth. I started peeking inside the Macdonald's paper bag we got out of the drive through.

"Yeah. So this Warner guy.." Ethan trailed off.

"What about him?" I asked him taking a bite off my nuggets. "There is an art exhibition of his coming to town next week. Did you know?"

"Yep. I think I saw it on i********:. I wish I could go. But tickets must be sold out already. And they are great in demand. So no way, I'm going," I sighed.

"Actually about that," his eyes did not meet mine as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. The tips of his ears were a bright pink. Was he blushing?

"Why the hell are you blushing, Ethan?"

He glowed like a ripe tomato.

"My mom got a couple of tickets from her office. So-" "Wow that's so great. So you guys going. Can you get a picture of this sketch I have been searching all over google. It isn't anywhere. It maybe at the show. So pleas-"

"Shh.. let me finish, first." Weird.

"Okay," I shrugged, opening the nugget box again. This time, offering to him.

He gave me a duh look before shaking his head. Hey! You should be happy I shared my nuggets with you. I don't share food. Rolling my eyes, I took one for myself.

"So I was thinking we could go. Like you know, both of us. You and me. Together. Maybe grab some dinner, afterwards," he said hurriedly, struggling for words while gulping nervously.

I froze mid bite.

Was Ethan f*****g Torres asking me out on a date? Was this a date?

"Say something," he nudged me. I unfroze, "Are you a-asking me out on a date?!"

He shrugged with a strained nervous smile, "I guess. So will you?"

I swallowed the remainder of my nugget, contemplating. Jeez, I've not been on a date for like ages. Crap, who am I shitting? This was my first date apart from the sophomore dance thing. By the way, I sounded like a ninety year old cat lady which I was not. Or highly doubted I was.

"Um- sure, Ethan. I mean okay," I said in one breath. His tensed shoulders relaxed before giving me a very next door boyish grin.

He leaned in for a quick kiss or so I thought, before he plucked the nugget box out of my hands. "Hey!"

As I reached for it being held above his head and we were in my f*****g car. I ended up with his warm breath on my cheek. Leaning in,

I looked into his eyes. His eyes darkened slightly as he inclined towards me.

Three.

Two.

One.

Here we go.

I reached for the nugget box quickly, and with an evil grin backed up in my seat. He pouted after a groan. "Do I at least get a kiss?" He asked pleadingly at me.

"Nope. You took my nuggets away," I shrugged. "You took them back! Now I have neither the nuggets or a kiss," he scowled. Aww.

"Oh, come here," I pulled him by his t-shirt, rolling my eyes while placing the nuggets on the dashboard, my lips connecting with his.

The soft peck ended up being a urgent and rushed one as he leaned over me and I backed up honking the horn of my dumb sensitive insecure bitchy car.

"Why can't you come over? Help me babysit my sister. Please. Eric bailed out," he droned as I pulled up my car into his neighborhood.

"Aww," I chuckled. "You actually called your brother by his name," I slapped his arm as he rolled his eyes grunting. "Dipshit," he murmured under his breath. I bit in a grin.

"I can't stay. Not today. I'm sorry."

"For some reason you can't tell me? Are you seeing another guy or something?" His eyes narrowed.

"Technically that would not be a problem. You and I are not together. So I can see and screw anyone I want. If you are not feeding me, f*****g me or putting a roof over my head, it is none of your business what I do. Is it?" I ranted counting it off my fingers.

"Oh, so how I would love to change that? I'll take option two," he drawled.

As far as my statement sounded like queen s**t, I blushed. My cheeks heating up as I rolled my eyes. Contradictory and ironic. I know.

"Ugh. Back to the topic. I can't do today because I-I'm going to see my dad," I said as his eyes bored into mine.

"Your dad? Oh yeah," he nodded thoughtfully as I finished speaking.

**

"Excuse me. Can I meet Jonathan Mitchell? Ward number thirty nine."

"I am sorry miss. Only family members allowed," the almond-eyed lady shook her head. "I am sorry but I'm his daughter. Isn't nurse Laura here?"

"No sweetie, she is off today. Can I see your ID by the way?"

I fished for my license in my purse after nodding at her. Handing her it, I waited for her approval while glancing around the deserted corridor.

"Sure. Follow me please."

My father was a lawyer. A famed one to be specific. He owned a renowned law firm both in town and in the outskirts. At least he was. For the past seven odd years have been spent confined to a hospital bed. Although he was a lawyer, he played football a lot. If there were two things he loved most in the world, one was definitely football while the other was my mom. Maybe his daughters after that. That just made this situation more abstruse.

Telling a person who loved and breathed football that the chances of them kicking a ball or at least nudging it with their foot was 2% out of the risks was indeed a very critical task. Which was very well accomplished by my sister when I was of the age eleven. Pretty much an year after my mother died.

He was diagnosed with osteosarcoma after the reporting of a pain in his leg.

That was when our family truly fell apart. That was when my sister took charge at the age of fourteen. That was when we learned to live alone in a house big enough to fill with seven generations of our descendants. Or at least three.

Was it scary? Yes.

Was it sad? Yep. Living in a house with only one person when you know the rest will never come back is sad and pathetic.

Was it exciting? A tid bit. Go on judge.

Come on, giving a pre teen a house to live alone was pretty much of you all out there. But trust me, it gets pretty boring when you do not even know how to do your laundry and have to live off bread, cheese omelets and takeout for the rest of your life.

Logan's dad happened to be one of my father's best buddies because of their love for football, neighborhood and what not. He looked after us. Or more elaborately both him and his wife literally took us in.

"Dr. Gilbert said he wanted to meet you by the way. Shall I let him know that you are here?" The nurse asked me motioning me to a white door. "Yes please," I nodded at her, opening the door and showed myself in as she walked back to her position down the corridor.

He was reading some magazine as his bed was in a sit-up position.

"Dad?" His sinister grey eyes darted up to mine. Their corners crinkling as he broke into a huge smile at my sight. "Carly!"

I crossed the room and put my arms around him as he reciprocated. The feel of being in your dad's arms after a long day was pure bliss.

"How are you doing dada?" I asked him pulling a stool to sit beside him. "Same ol' same ol'" h e grunted. "Now tell me, how is my favorite daughter doing?"

"Better not let Linna hear that, dad," I chuckled shaking my head as I put down the small packet of chocolate chip biscuits I baked. He laughed soundly. "Now back to business, how are you seriously feeling, dad?"

"Better than ever, baby," he said pecking my forehead.

"How did your fundraiser go and what about that new kid?" He asked me, reducing the volume of the ongoing weather update.

I had come straight to meet dad after I had dropped Ethan off.

"The fundraiser went quite well, dad. And for the new kid, well he is okay," I treaded so that he will not poke me further into the funny business. His eyes narrowed.

"Do I need to meet that new kid? Maybe with a baseball bat?" He asked with a poker face rubbing his one week beard as if planning something sinister.

"Dad!" I fake gasped hiding a grin not quite discretely as he guffawed. "Well, the new guy asked me out,” I bit my lip nervously gauging his reaction.

“He what?!” My dad exclaimed. “Asked me out,” I repeated sheepishly. “And what did you say Carly?” He asked rushed. “I said yes?” I retorted timidly, rummaging through the doctor reports on the side cabinet.

“Scarlett, you met him not even a week ago?” He asked me aghast. “I know dad. It was along week-” “You accepted for a date because it was a long wee-” “Do you know a Evelyn Torres, by the way?” I asked yearning for some sort of divine intervention.

“Eve- who? Ah, yes I do, which happens to be way out of topic. So about this new kid, who is he? Son of a bachelor!” “Dad!” I gasped for real earning a grunt in return accompanied with a scowl.

“His name is Ethan Torres, by the way.”

“I don’t care- wait. Torres?!”

I nodded biting back a chuckle. “As in Evelyn Torres?” “Yep,” I assessed his response.

“What the hell is Evelyn doing in town?”

“She divorced Ethan’s dad. So they moved here,” I mumbled taking a bite of one of the chocolate chip cookies I brought. Hee hee.

“I see,” he muttered scratching the back of his neck thinking hard. “She told me that she’ll drop by sometime,” I looked at him wondering what the hell he was thinking so much about as a knock interrupted us.

“May I come in?” The cheerful voice of the stout doctor with a half bald head alerted us as his head beamed at us poking through the half opened door. “Do come in Barry,” my dad nodded brushing a few cookie crumbs off his scrubs.

I got up from my seat, giving a smile to the doctor who was checking my father’s pulse.

“How are you doing, Scarlett?” Dr. Barry Gilbert asked me noting something down on his notepad. “Good, Doctor. Gilbert.”

“There is something I wanted tell you about,” he motioned me get seated. Gosh, what the hell was this? I sat down knotting my fingers on my lap.

“I wanted Nick for this talk but he is now on duty at the emergency unit. So that is a no,” he mumbled taking off his glasses. Nick is Logan’s father. He is also one of the doctors in the hospital, obviously.

“Doctors have recently discovered a new therapy that might help recover from osteosarcoma,” he paused waiting for my response. I think my jaw hit the floor in response, though. This was the happiest I had been in- I don’t know, maybe ten years.

“Does this mean-” “I strongly suggest that you wait till I finish talking and contain your excitement,” he interrupted and my heart sank.

Oh.

“This means that we would be able to perform a surgery for Johnny with a ninety five percent positive result.” Wait, wasn’t that like really good? A ninety five percent? “That is good comparatively but the issue deals with the aftermath of course.”

Oh.

“This surgery will definitely result in Johnny being fully fledged on his two feet. He could walk, run, kick and do blah, blah, blah on foot. But the problem is that this surgery could last for a maximum of fifteen to twenty years. As time passes the effectiveness will diminish and he will lag in duties. There are high chances for the procreation of cancer cells in the body once again. This is not a surgery that can be performed more than once in life. So we cannot do again. And the development of cancer cells mean that he...”

Oh.

“Johnny wants to go ahead regarding this surgery.” My eyes darted to my father’s grey once that were now looking pointedly at the marble floor.

“His decision is more than sufficient to go ahead but we insisted we require the ideas of you and your sister since you are the remaining relatives of him. And daughters in fact,” Doc Gilbert gave his input. Dad gave him a look as the latter got up perching his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“I’ll leave you guys to it then. Scarlett, drop by my office before you head home. I have some of Tina’s special brownies. Garb them before you leave,” he said nodding at me before leaving me and my dad in an eerie silence.

“Why dad?” My voice was a whisper.

“I need to be there for you guys. Ten years have passed since your mother died. Nine and half of them without me being a part of it. For Christ’s sake, I was not there for my daughter’s graduation or acceptance or anything. I wasn’t there for her first boyfriend. I wasn’t there for my Carly duck’s first day in high school. I wasn’t there when my daughters felt unsafe. I wasn’t there with my arms around them when they were feeling down. I wasn’t there with them for their birthdays or the anniversaries of their mom’s death. I just wasn’t there.”

“I have won many cases in my career. Each time I win a case in court or each time I score a goal in football I’ve never proud the way when your sister came and tell me that she got into Dartmouth. I’ve never felt prouder when you come and tell me that you were the year topper or your team won or when you became a member of the chief student council. I was never there for those moments.”

“If I don’t have this surgery done, I would probably be bedridden for the rest of my life in pain. Both physically and mentally. Knowing that I’m leaving my daughters, a prey open to the social climbing vultures. Staying like that for years and existing like a living corpse is not how I want to be. I want to be with you girls at least for as long as I can. Jesus, I don’t even know what pizza toppings you girls like anymore. I’m such a shitty father who does not deserve that title ‘dad’”

His shoulders were slumped and stance dejected and my father never looked older.

Getting up from my seat I put my arms around him. Please dad, don’t cry.

“You are the best dad in the world and I’m not kidding. Seriously, both Linna and I love you, papa. We love you so much that we want you badly in our lives too. We got so lucky with our dad. I swear Linna once told me that if she ever gets hitched it would be to a guy who treats her how you treated mom. We see you as an inspiration dad. You are not a shitty father. You are the best anyone could get and we still like the same pizza toppings. Pepperoni for me and mozzarella for Linna. We are still the same girls dad. Your little ones,” I voiced out as he hugged me back.

“If you really want this surgery done, yes, I’ll talk to Linna and we will figure this out. We have time dad. All the time in the world and we are not growing any faster,” I promised him. “I know Carly,” he pecked my forehead composed now.

**

“This surgery has good responses and I think this will work. I was not lying about further outcomes either. But this is better than him being confined to a hospital bed for a long period of time. We are talking about a Jonathan Mitchell here. It’s high time he would lose his mind.”

Doc Gilbert’s voice reechoed in me as I FaceTimed Linna.

“Hey Scar!” Her pretty face appeared on my screen as she beamed waving at me. “What the hell are you doing?” I asked her eyeing half of her wardrobe fallen all over her bed.

“It is mine and Josh’s fourth year anniversary tomorrow and I want to wear something nice for him. I just can’t find the it thing,” she groaned falling on her bed dramatically with a thud.

Usually her antics would have made me laugh but I was busy chewing my lip in frustration.

“Hey, what happened?” She asked me probably noticing my change of behavior. I instantly spilled the whole scenario to her as she listened patiently.

“Dad gave me a call today before you did. I think the surgery is good, too.” She proclaimed her approval. “Come on, Scar. This is dad’s ticket from the miserable hospital asylum. Of course he is going to grab it. He is going to proceed anyways. It would be much better to go ahead with an open mind.”

There she goes. She is always right so.. I found myself nodding to her.

“So I heard about some guy you are going out about,” she gushed. “Who is the beach hottie who has swept my sister off her feet?” She asked me as my cheeks reddened and I rolled my eyes.

“Nothing much to say. Anyways I think that purple sundress would look good on you tomorrow-”

“Ay, ay, girl. Is my sister blushing? Now tell me about this Mr. Boom Knight in Shining Armor,” she grinned evilly.

Good lord, please have mercy on me.