Of Happiness Read Online Free Page B

to start working things out with your dad, and B, he was a huge dick. He can’t have you back unless he makes it up to you.”
    “I want to be with him,” I whisper into the phone.
    “And you will be with him. We know he’s not letting you go that easily. Look, I’m not saying you should accept him with open arms, but I have a sense that he’s preparing to battle to win you back.”
    “So what do I do?”
    “You wait for him to come crawling on his hands and knees. The good ones always do.”

    After we’ve had breakfast, Dad and I wander through the antique store. I take photos and interview the owner for my blog, Your Perfect Place . When I’m done, I find my dad near the front of the store, peering into an open armoire. Suddenly, I can’t contain my curiosity anymore.
    “This is a rude question, but Dad, it’s very unlike you to splurge on an expensive hotel, taxi cabs, and cross-country trips.”
    “I didn’t hear a question in there,” he observes.
    Skirting around a paisley loveseat that needs a serious upholstery makeover, I move to stand next to him. “I helped with our family finances,” I remind him. “I’m so pleased to have you here, but it seems like a lot of money to spend on me when a phone call would have sufficed.”
    He closes the doors of the cabinet and fixes me with a serious glare. “No amount of money is too much to spend on my daughter when she needs me. And, yes, you took care of some finances, but not all. I made a lot of mistakes with you, but saving money in case of a rainy day was not one of them. I’d say you had a rainy day. Wouldn’t you?”
    “Yes.” My heart smashed on the floor is pretty rainy.
    “And lastly,” he starts.
    “There’s more?”
    “Let’s talk outside?” he asks, giving a meaningful look to some of the other patrons.
    Tossing my camera into my tote bag, I follow him out into the bright sunshine. We stroll east on Belmont, a street in the Lakeview neighborhood, toward Lake Michigan. Dad swipes a hand through his hair, contemplating the buildings ahead of us. He looks ill at ease, wrinkles crinkling his forehead.
    “What’s the last point?” I gently prod.
    “It’s odd to think that I’d be afraid of my own daughter,” Dad muses.
    “Afraid of me ?”
    “There was a malpractice lawsuit after your mother died,” he says quietly. “We won.”
    “And?”
    “The settlement awarded us a couple hundred thousand, but I was too stubborn. I kept it locked up in an account gaining interest when I could have used it to get you a car or buy you the latest clothes.” He sounds torn-up, his voice jagged.
    I try to stifle an external reaction of surprise. How many more large reveals would there be between him and me? By his remorseful expression it’s easy to spot the upheaval the secret caused him. When I gauge my reaction, I find I’m not upset. It was his decision to do what he felt right with the money. While I was growing up, he provided what I needed—shelter, clothing, food, water. It might have made our lives richer in material things, but wouldn’t have bridged the emotional chasm between us.
    “Dad.” I reach out and grab his elbow, causing us to pause on the middle of the sidewalk. “We lived in the city; I didn’t need a car. And you worked your ass off to keep me fed and clothed. I am so lucky to have a father who could provide for me.” 
    After roughly clearing his throat, Dad continues. “I’d like to use the money to pay off the rest of your student loans. There should be some left over, and that’s yours to use as you see fit.”
    The air glides against my cheek; rays of sunshine beat down on me like any normal day. But it’s not normal to find out about stashed money that could eliminate some of my major financial burdens.
    “What?” I finally splutter. “No. No, I couldn’t do that.”
    “The money will sit in the account until you decide what to do with it, Ed. I’m giving it to you.” Shaking his head, he