way, she reflected my words of wisdom right back at me. “I’m not falling for that, Adelynn Renee. This book is for my eyes only.”
“Come on, Mom,” she whined. “Why can’t I read it?”
“Because I don’t want you to.”
In the pages of this little book, I’d written the truth about her father, a man she had yet to meet. I didn’t feel like taking a trip down memory lane to visit him tonight with her in tow. It would only raise questions that were better left for after she graduated high school—or maybe college. That asshole of a sperm donor didn’t deserve her love and affection before she was able to fully understand what had happened a decade ago.
Addy sighed and threw herself on my bed. “I was hoping we could read it together and bond.”
Bond? I narrowed my eyes. “You need to stop watching the Hallmark Channel.” I picked up a pair of her pajamas that for some reason were on the floor of my bedroom and handed them to her. “Go brush your teeth and climb into bed.”
“Ah, Mom.”
“Go. Now.” I nudged her toward the door. “I’ll be in later to kiss you goodnight.”
She trudged out the door, her stocking feet sweeping a cluster of dust bunnies with her.
As soon as I heard the bathroom door close, I picked up the diary and popped it open with Addy’s paper clip.
Property of Violet Parker
Running my finger over my name, I chewed on my lower lip, remembering. I’d been so young, so clueless. I fanned the pages full of loopy cursive writing. Even my handwriting had been different then—flowing and pretty, not the rushed scrawls I used now.
I stopped on a page with a short, sloppy entry:
July 13th : Crappity crap! I just realized I totally missed my period. It must be the new birth control pills messing with my system. Seems like the nurse said something about this happening. Maybe I should call the doctor.
Ha! If only it had just been the pills making my period a no-show. I’d forgotten all about calling the doctor thanks to the full load of college classes I was taking, my full-time job, and, of course, my preoccupation with Addy’s father. His blonde hair, golden brown eyes, and hard body had melted my underwear along with my resistance every time he came around to charm me into bed. I’d had a thing for sexy brainiacs back then, especially a science major who talked like Captain James Tiberius Kirk during sex. Don’t … stop …Violet.
I flipped a couple of pages, grimacing at the big, bold strokes I’d used on one of them.
July 29th : I’m going to kill her!!! How could she? She knows how much I like him. I hate her. I fucking hate her. I CAN’T BELIEVE SHE SLEPT WITH HIM!!!!
Ah, yes. My little sister, a.k.a. Psycho Susan. I should have known that she was going to be a permanent burr in my ass back when she was four and she cut the hair off all of my Barbie dolls because I’d told her she couldn’t play with them while I was at school. Since birth, she’d lived by the motto: What was hers was hers, and what was mine was hers to destroy.
The night I came home early from work and walked in on her naked and gasping in my bed underneath Addy’s father was the night I had shut them both out of my life. I still felt a slight kick in my solar plexus whenever the image of them together popped into my head. Her game had sunk to a new level. It was no longer about whom Daddy loved more.
Shaking my head, I flipped forward a few more pages. The writing was short and sweet and slightly smudged.
August 24th : I’m ten weeks pregnant. Shit!
I shook my head, remembering the choking fear squeezing my esophagus when I’d stared at the ultrasound image on the monitor. A baby. Oh, my God, a baby.
My sister had still been hot and heavy with Addy’s father at the time. We’d become our own soap opera: The Young and the Pregnant. There had been so much drama in the air that summer, especially the night Addy’s dad had come to my door and declared his love for me. When I
“Come on, Mom,” she whined. “Why can’t I read it?”
“Because I don’t want you to.”
In the pages of this little book, I’d written the truth about her father, a man she had yet to meet. I didn’t feel like taking a trip down memory lane to visit him tonight with her in tow. It would only raise questions that were better left for after she graduated high school—or maybe college. That asshole of a sperm donor didn’t deserve her love and affection before she was able to fully understand what had happened a decade ago.
Addy sighed and threw herself on my bed. “I was hoping we could read it together and bond.”
Bond? I narrowed my eyes. “You need to stop watching the Hallmark Channel.” I picked up a pair of her pajamas that for some reason were on the floor of my bedroom and handed them to her. “Go brush your teeth and climb into bed.”
“Ah, Mom.”
“Go. Now.” I nudged her toward the door. “I’ll be in later to kiss you goodnight.”
She trudged out the door, her stocking feet sweeping a cluster of dust bunnies with her.
As soon as I heard the bathroom door close, I picked up the diary and popped it open with Addy’s paper clip.
Property of Violet Parker
Running my finger over my name, I chewed on my lower lip, remembering. I’d been so young, so clueless. I fanned the pages full of loopy cursive writing. Even my handwriting had been different then—flowing and pretty, not the rushed scrawls I used now.
I stopped on a page with a short, sloppy entry:
July 13th : Crappity crap! I just realized I totally missed my period. It must be the new birth control pills messing with my system. Seems like the nurse said something about this happening. Maybe I should call the doctor.
Ha! If only it had just been the pills making my period a no-show. I’d forgotten all about calling the doctor thanks to the full load of college classes I was taking, my full-time job, and, of course, my preoccupation with Addy’s father. His blonde hair, golden brown eyes, and hard body had melted my underwear along with my resistance every time he came around to charm me into bed. I’d had a thing for sexy brainiacs back then, especially a science major who talked like Captain James Tiberius Kirk during sex. Don’t … stop …Violet.
I flipped a couple of pages, grimacing at the big, bold strokes I’d used on one of them.
July 29th : I’m going to kill her!!! How could she? She knows how much I like him. I hate her. I fucking hate her. I CAN’T BELIEVE SHE SLEPT WITH HIM!!!!
Ah, yes. My little sister, a.k.a. Psycho Susan. I should have known that she was going to be a permanent burr in my ass back when she was four and she cut the hair off all of my Barbie dolls because I’d told her she couldn’t play with them while I was at school. Since birth, she’d lived by the motto: What was hers was hers, and what was mine was hers to destroy.
The night I came home early from work and walked in on her naked and gasping in my bed underneath Addy’s father was the night I had shut them both out of my life. I still felt a slight kick in my solar plexus whenever the image of them together popped into my head. Her game had sunk to a new level. It was no longer about whom Daddy loved more.
Shaking my head, I flipped forward a few more pages. The writing was short and sweet and slightly smudged.
August 24th : I’m ten weeks pregnant. Shit!
I shook my head, remembering the choking fear squeezing my esophagus when I’d stared at the ultrasound image on the monitor. A baby. Oh, my God, a baby.
My sister had still been hot and heavy with Addy’s father at the time. We’d become our own soap opera: The Young and the Pregnant. There had been so much drama in the air that summer, especially the night Addy’s dad had come to my door and declared his love for me. When I
Similar Books
Return to Winter: Russia, China, and the New Cold War Against America
Douglas E. Schoen, Melik Kaylan
