Damaged Beyond Repair by Kashmira Kamat (KittyKash) (best short books to read TXT) 📗

Chapter 52

Alana

       I had a bad feeling things wouldn't go well with my father at dinner. The music drifting in the car did not work as a distraction, not that I was paying much attention. I checked the dashboard and it read eight sharp. We'd dropped Minnie and Elsa at Rowan's fathers place about two hours ago. Rowan appeared tense so I offered to drive and he let me which told me the situation was even worse than I thought.

He didn't say anything only stared out the window. "It's going to be okay." I assured him.

My heart started to pound fiercely, I thought it was going to take a leap out. I wasn't going to show it to Rowan though. He didn't need to be any more anxious then he already was. I pulled the car into the driveway and parked it just beside my dad's Toyota Rav4. I noticed the kitchen lights were switched on, and I smelled the familiar aroma of fried chicken which made me nostalgic.

I laced my fingers through Rowan's ice cold as we walked towards the entrance of my house. It was small and cozy, nothing like Rowan's large mansion. I only hoped Rowan would like my home. He stopped right in front of the main door, the gift in his arms glinted because of the fancy paper it was wrapped in.

"What's wrong?" I gave his fingers a squeeze.

His face held the kind of sadness I hated to see. "I'm scared, Alana. I haven't been this nervous in my life." 

"I promise he will like you." I went on my tip toes, and pressed my lips to his.

He wasn't going to let go of my hand, if that was going to make him feel better, I wanted him to hold onto me. I wanted my father to see the man I loved.

I knocked on the door once. I heard the sounds of footsteps retreating. I was going to explode with excitement and agitation, kind of like a ball of emotions rolling in my stomach. My father stood in the doorway, his smile reached his once dark eyes. His arms were wide open, as always. 

"Daddy.."

In order to run into my father's arms, I let go of Rowan's hand. My dad wrapped his arms around me. The familiar after- shave mixed with the faint scent of cigarettes hit my nostrils.

Yes, I was home.

****

Rowan

       Meeting Alana's father seemed like the biggest complication in my life that I never had. What was the big deal about it? It was just going to be a friendly dinner, the more I assured myself, the lesser I believed it. Her father was going to judge me. Period. And probably even swat me away like a damn fly, should he run a background check. Rowan Masters had a reputation of being the town clown back in the day, not that he'd find out, unless of course I told him that myself which I planned on doing with just the right amount of sugar coating.

    I didn't have much time to decide what I had to say to her father, or how he'd react. The main door opened. Alana's father stood in the doorway, a welcoming smile tugged his moustache rimmed lips. And that welcoming smile turned less welcoming as he scanned me. For me this was a fine welcome, since I was expecting him with a loaded shot-gun. Alana's fingers slipped out of my hand as she ran into his open arms, he enveloped her in a father-daughter bear hug.

"Daddy." She took an intake of breath and her face fell, "You've been smoking again, haven't you?"

Her father shrugged. "Just one."

I heard a faint 'yeah, whatever'.

The father-daughter duo turned to me, but before either of them could speak or rant a welcoming speech, a large dark Saint Bernard ran right through the back door and into the living area. The dog came right at me and I swear on every goddamn creature I'd ever laid eyes upon, he was massive. He could make a baby elephant look like a ant.

"Hey, buddy." I ruffled the enthusiastic dog's ears; I had to balance the gift in my arms. One leap from this heavy boy and I was taking down the bottle of fine champagne, and not to mention, the twin glasses that came with it. I'd paid too damn much to impress her father.

   I glanced around the place; it was a two story house, decorated with suitable furniture. Nothing fancy but it gave the place a feeling of what a home should be. A narrow wooden staircase separated the living area and the kitchen. 

Alana's father was yet to acknowledge me, I glanced up from the dog to meet with a pair of very suspicious eyes, either studying me or trying to intimidate me. I didn't like the sound of either options. Rick Hayes was a middle-aged good looking man; I was guessing he was a few years younger to my mother, probably mid-fifties. His eyes were a color of deep hazel, very contrasting to his daughters which were pure black, but that's where the similarities ended. Their face structure was just the same. DNA samples were not needed to match or prove a point.

He smiled almost forcefully and offered me a handshake, "Rick."

"Rowan." I shook hands with him and cringed as he added more pressure on the hand-shake, like he was trying to prove a point. "It's nice to meet you, sir."

I handed him the present.

"What do we have here?" he brought the box on the little round dining table and opened it. He pulled out the bottle of champagne. He nodded at me approvingly. "How lovely, thank you, Mr. Masters, that was very kind of you."

"Rowan is fine, sir, I insist." I said. Somehow, him calling me Mr. Masters gave me some wrong signal. There was an edge, like he was reminding me of my past, the professor who taught more than economics, the professor who seduced his daughter from the classroom desk and into his bed. I swallowed.

"Rowan, why don't you and Alana watch TV or something while I prepare dinner. I'll join you kids in a few minutes." Rick pulled out a cutting board and began dicing the vegetables.

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