Page 48 of My Best Friend's Dad

“I concur. Shitting bricks is bad for the rectum.”

We looked at each other for a few seconds and then burst out laughing. I immediately dash for some tissues in case I have a coughing fit, start sneezing, or laugh so hard that I blow a booger out.

“I think it’s in the blow-dried cows’ cuteness territory in a very haunting way.”

“I love it. The old couple who owned that farm refused to take any money for it. They didn’t even remember there was a trunk of old toys in there, nor did they know who it belonged to. They’ve had several families store things in there over the decades when they’ve moved, and some never came back for it.”

“What did my dad get?”

“An old car grill. It’s very cool. He said he’d put it up on the wall in his mancave.”

Mika frowns. “I’ve never even been to his house. His old one, yes, but not this one. I’m a bad daughter.”

I rush to her and hug her tight. She hugs me back, even if I’m germy. “You’re not a bad daughter,” I tell her neck. “Your dad told me that he has so many regrets. He truly wishes he would have fought harder for you. He thought he’d mess you up if he tried. He didn’t want you to live in a family that was torn apart by constant fighting and bitterness.”

“My mom’s a good mom, but she was never kind about him or to him. I know that. I’ve known it since I was a kid and saw how my other friends’ parents behaved. I’ve never hated him or been angry with him. I just didn’t know how to connect with him.”

“He’s lost that way, but he wants to be found so freaking bad. I think a huge part of his heartbreak wasn’t just your mom. It was losing his family. I know your dad’s a good man with genuine regret and love in his heart because he’s nothing like my parents. He had more love for you in a single expression than I’ve known from my parents my whole life.”

“I’m sorry they suck, babes. For real. Let’s get you feeling better, and we’ll redo this place. We’ll Bellatrix it.”

“I have no idea what that even means. I don’t know what my style is. I’m not brave like you.”

Mika scoffs. She holds me back and shakes her head, making her new orange bangs bounce across her pale skin. “You don’t have to be brave like me. You just have to doyou. We’ll find youtogether. Take a few days. While you’re still feeling like garbage and have no energy, go through some design photos and see if there’s anything you like. Take screenshots and make a folder. It doesn’t have to happen all at once. A big part of any place is the décor, but voila!” She snaps her fingers and points at the giant box. “You have a way to make your own now. Plus, there’s always thrift stores, apps, and online stores. We can have a paint night right here on canvas. Sip wine, make bad art. It sounds like a great time.”

“My mom will have a heart attack.”

“Meh, she won’t. But if she did, she’s a doctor. She’d know what to do.”

I try very hard not to laugh, but I fail. I know nothing is actually going to happen to my mom past her being in a rage for a few weeks and not speaking to me about this. So…it won’t be that much different, minus the rage. We don’t talk regularly, and she hardly ever comes over here. She just wants to control me. She doesn’t do it on purpose or to be malicious. I’ve just always let her.

“I know you’re not feeling the greatest, but why don’t I set up the printer for you tonight? We can research it for a couple of days, and then we’ll try making something. It probably needs the stuff to print with anyway.”

“My mom ordered some. It’s coming here, probably tomorrow or the next day.”

Mika’s eyes glint with mischief. Her smile is half evil, and it’s so big and wide that she gets double dimples. They remind me so much of Rowleigh in that moment that my chest starts to throb. And it’s not just the cold either. It’s all my sinuses and my thick, foggy brain.

It’s only been five days since we did the barn pick, but I miss him. It’s even worse that he’s across the world, away from home, and he’s sick too.

I wish I could text him.

Would it be right?

Would it be wrong?

I have no idea where we’re at. The whole thing has just been so wild and unexpected and strange.

Mika reads my forlorn expression asI’m sick, and I need a bed and a decent sleep with a soft blanket and a hot water bottle, pronto. Come hither, my bed, come hither.

“You need to finish eating, and we’ll get you into bed. I’m not taking no for an answer. The printing and décor can waitfor another day. And don’t worry about finding another job. It’ll work out. That whole company was full of dicks anyway. Pricks. Asshole dick pricks. And I mean that in the lady way because I know you worked with all women. Ladies can be dicks, pricks, and assholes too.”

I give her a watery smile and mutter, “Thank you.”

“I’m with you, always. Everything will be fine, and we can take that darned printer and make wonderful things. Models of poops, skulls, armor, cosplay stuff. Oh. My. God. Cosplay. I bet we can print swords and helmets! Holy shit, I’m totally looking this up the second I get home!”

My body is exhausted and achy, and I can’t remember the last time I felt this nasty. I’m currently jobless, and my parents’ disregard for me is all too apparent. I know they don’t mean it. They have their own lives. I’m an adult, and I can take care of myself. They’ve always wanted me to be independent. That’s just the kind of mom and dad they are. Like all the other times, I’ll forgive them for hurts they don’t mean to inflict, but I’m not going to get brave. I’m just going to do a little bit each day to figure out who I am and what I want out of life.

Big questions.