There’s tranquility in developing photos. Maybe it’s the red light saturating the room in its glow or perhaps the gentle splash of chemicals in the film bath? Whatever it is, it distracts me from the tension lingering between Julian and me. 

My pocket buzzes, so I make a hasty exit from the darkroom, and warmth instantly spreads across my face when I read the text.

Moses: Hey, neighbor.

Me: Hey.

Moses: What are you up to?

Me: Developing photos from a wedding. What about you? 

Moses: Thinking about you.

There might as well be hummingbirds flapping in my stomach with how happy that makes me. I wish I could reach through the screen and hug him.

Moses: Miss you already.

My thumbs hover over the keypad as I release a squeal and dance in place. Jerry pokes his head out from his office, so I wipe the smile from my face and play it cool.

Moses: See you this evening?

Since the night at Casanova, we’ve been a bit inseparable. His shift at the hospital ends at eleven-thirty PM, so he comes over after midnight, and I heat leftovers for him to eat. Then we lay in bed talking about everything and anything, except for the topic of Valentina Moreno. We haven’t had sex yet, but for the first time in years, I can sleep through the night with him snuggled against me.

Judging by his soft snoring, he’s able to sleep too.

Me: I’ll have dinner ready and a snuggle spot reserved for you.

Moses: Sounds perfect.

“You done fooling around?” Jerry now stands in his office doorway with arms folded.

“Um, yes…”

“Well, then get back to work.”

“Someone is moody.” I straighten my shoulders.

“Yeah, well, I don’t appreciate your dad calling and chewing me a new asshole. We’ve got bills to pay, and this isn’t a playground.”

“I’m aware.”

“You can’t have daddy bail you out of being an adult.”

“First of all, Jerry,” I hold up my hand. “Don’t be rude. I didn’t chew you a new asshole. And second, when did he call you?”

“Last night. He said I’m too hard on you, so I told him to piss off, and we got into it.”

“Why would he do that…” I furrow my brows.

“Why? Your dad is a prick. He’s always been a prick,” Jerry scoffs. I reel back at that remark. Because my father is the sweetest man I know. “Anyway, I need you to focus on those photos from the Kominsky wedding and then help Julian in the studio with the senior graduate portraits.”

As much as I want Jerry to elaborate on his comment, it feels like another can of worms. So, I slip back into the darkroom and try to concentrate on the photos.

∆∆∆

It’s past midnight, and Moses is scarfing down the teriyaki stir fry I made. His damp hair from showering keeps falling into his tired eyes, and his drooping shoulders still carry the weight of a long shift. A patient died in the ER from a gunshot wound, and he was the one who performed CPR to no avail.

“Who delivered the news to the family?”

“Me, but I don’t want to talk about it.” Moses brushes the hair from his eyes, and it falls forward again, which reminds me of my dad. “Were things a little better with Julian today?” 

“A little. Jerry, on the other hand, was weird.”

“How so?”

“Just something he said about my dad. He called him a prick and said he’s always been that way.”

“They know each other?” Moses turns towards the sink and begins washing his dish instead of leaving it there for me to do. I like this about him.

“They went to high school together but then lost touch and reconnected sometime after my mom died.”

“You know, I’ve been thinking…” Moses turns off the faucet and places the dish in the drying rack. “A DNA test would put all of this Valentina stuff to rest.”

“I… I don’t want to think about her.” I look away. 

“I know.” Moses rounds the breakfast bar to where I’m sitting. He tilts my chin, and those grey eyes of his pierce me. “I know you’d rather not talk about her, but it’s honestly the best way to put this whole thing aside, and I can help you with it.”

“But wouldn’t he need to provide me with a swab from his saliva or something?”

“No. You don’t even have to tell him. All you need is his hair, nail clippings, heck, even ear wax would work.”

“I could drive up to Redding this weekend? My dad is working overtime, so he won’t be home. I could sneak in and sneak out without him knowing. Want to come?”

“I would, but I’m covering a shift on Saturday. What about Julian?”

“I’m not ready to be alone in a four-hour car ride with him,” I reply as a yawn swallows the last words.

“Someones sleepy.”

Taking my hand, Moses steps in the direction of the bedroom, and I slide off the barstool. This is our routine now, and I want to hold onto it for as long as possible.

I hope nothing ruins it.

∆∆∆

Traffic was terrible, so it’s around two PM when I make it to Redding and pull up to the cabin. Even though I know my dad is at work, relief still rolls through my fingers when I see the empty driveway and ease my grip on the steering wheel. 

A spare key is hidden under a potted plant on the porch, so I help myself, and the door squeals upon opening. For a moment, I stand there, flexing and unflexing my fists while working the nerve to step inside. This feels so sneaky.

The logs in the fireplace are down to glowing embers, and it’s a little chilly when I step inside. Rubbing my arms, I glance around but flinch at the automatic air freshener, releasing a spritz of cinnamon fragrance. 

“Jesus, Val. Get a grip.” I wiggle my arms to the sides to shake off the nerves. “You’ve got this!” 

That’s when I spot a pile of mail sitting on the coffee table, so I round the black leather couch and pick up the stack. It’s mostly utility bills, but I pause at an invoice for a storage shed. 

If Julian were here, he’d want to investigate, but it’s just a storage shed, and I am only here to collect DNA. 

But I am a bit nosy.

So I snoop around the cabin. If my dad has a girlfriend, there has to be something here that belongs to her. A scrunchy? A sweater? Something!

After an hour of carefully sifting through his things and putting them back strictly how I found them, I come up empty. Flopping onto my dad’s bed, I stare at the ceiling while drumming my stomach. 

Which is a mistake.

The effects of the long drive kick in, and I drift off to sleep.

The next thing I know, I’m awakening to the front door slamming open and a dark room with moonlight seeping past the blinds. I bolt upright, my heart ticking on high alert, and scramble off the bed before snatching the baseball bat in the corner of the room. Counting to three, I blow out a breath and tip-toe through the dark hallway. Whoever is out there keeps bumping into things, but then I hear a woman’s giggle. I freeze. 

The giggling mixes with the smacking of lips, and there’s no confusing the sound of kissing. So I press my back against the wall and peer around the corner.

No one should ever have to witness their parent in sex mode, but that’s what I’m seeing as my dad yanks some red head’s lacy blouse off while she tugs at his belt buckle. There’s hunger in her eyes and pink lipstick smeared across her chin. 

“Oh, my god!” I screech, and the baseball bat clatters to the floor. 

They jerk away from each other right as my dad’s jeans fall to his ankles. An erection glares at me, so I slap a hand over my eyes because I do not need to see this. He scurries to pull them up and almost trips over the material.

“Shit. Val…” 

“Who the hell is that!” The redhead whips her manicured finger at me.

“No, who the hell are you!?” 

“Baby girl, what are you doing here?” My dad says while buckling his pants, but his girlfriend, or whoever this woman is, starts whacking his arm.

“Who the hell is this woman, Angelo!?”

“If you hit my father one more time.” I charge across the room. 

“Your father?” Her brows fly to her hairline. “You have a daughter?”

 “I told you about her,” he says.

“Oh, no, you certainly did not mention an adult daughter!” 

“Well, he certainly never mentioned your tacky ass either, so you must not be that important!” I bark, but she doesn’t like that and attempts to lunge. 

My father slides between us right as her fist arcs through the air. It misses me but thuds into his jaw, and a loud fuck, erupts from his mouth. 

The blood on his lip turns me berserk, and it’s like I’ve shifted into a crossbreed of a feral cat and a kangaroo because the screech I release could shatter glass as I launch myself over my dad’s shoulder to get to Miss Red Head. 

Except the punch never lands. 

My dad wraps his arms around me, and the living room disappears as he whisks us off to the bedroom. He slams the door behind him with his foot and tosses me onto the bed so hard I bounce on the mattress. 

“Jesus, Valerie. What’s gotten into you?”

“You lied!”

“About what?”

“I thought you had to work this weekend, huh?”

“I did.”

“And who is that out there, your girlfriend?”

“We… I…” His words falter when we hear a car peeling out of the driveway, and he drops his head in his hands.

“Why didn’t you tell her about me?” I don’t want to cry, but my mouth crumbles into a frown anyway, and my bottom lip begins trembling. 

“I…”

“Why!?” I shout. “Are you ashamed of me? Is that the real reason you wanted me to live on my own?”

“No.” He crouches and cups my face. “I wanted you to stay in San Francisco because there’s opportunity there.”

“Does she live here?”

“No. Not really.”

“Not really!”

“She’s a flight attendant, so she’s gone a lot.”

“And that’s why this place looks the way it does.” I motion around the room. “How long has this been going on.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs, but I narrow my eyes and growl.

“How long.”

“Three months.”

“Three—” I clamp a hand over my mouth and stifle a cry.

Ninety days is a long time never to mention having a daughter. And why didn’t he tell me about her when I asked about the new decor?

“Baby girl, I’m sorry.” He takes my face in his hands and forces me to stare at him. His eyes are glossy, and they look desperate as they search mine. “I messed up.”

“Yes, you did,” I snarl, but my throat is tight with a knot, and it comes out more like a meow. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why did you lie to me?” I ask through a cry, and I can see it break him as his face crumples and a tear rolls down his cheek. 

“I didn’t know how to tell you. So I kept putting it off and putting it off, and things just snowballed. Besides, you’re not a little girl anymore. I’m allowed a dating life, and I don’t have to tell you about every woman I take out to dinner.”

“Well, that wasn’t just some woman you took to dinner. She lives here! And knew nothing about me.”

“Well, Miranda is out of the picture now.”

“Good. I hate her.” I wipe my face with my sleeve.

“Yeah, well, I’m not too fond of her either for taking a swing at you.” 

My father scrubs his face with his hands and releases a groan from deep in his lungs, but it turns into a chuckle. His hands slide down his stubbled cheeks, and he peers at me with damp lashes

“You reminded me of your mother out there, you crazy girl.”

“Guess it’s that fiery Italian blood.”

“Guess so. Now can we hug it out?” 

“Always.”

When we embrace, I don’t know what possesses me, but my fingers rifle through his thick hair and yoink a few strands.

“Ouch!” My dad jerks away, his hand slapping the back of his head. “What was that for?”

“You deserve it.” I grin.

“I raised one crazy daughter.” 

He gets to his feet, chuckling, and when he turns to open the bedroom door, I tuck the hair into my pocket. I hope I have enough for the DNA test.

Because my gut is screaming this is the right thing to do.