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hook.
“Where’s your damn car?”

 
    I wasn’t going to tell him all this,
but now the dam broke. If he was going to lay everything on my shoulders, then
goddamn if I wasn’t going to return the favor.

 
    “They took it, Dad. I haven’t been
paying for my student loans, so they took my car. And they’re docking my wages.
So I guess you’re not the only one in the family who can’t seem to handle
paying off their loans. Like father like daughter…”

 
    My father stood there for a long
time, his heavy-lidded eyes fixed on me, and this time it was my turn to look
away. It was like he was looking straight through me, making me feel
vulnerable, like nothing I could do would stay hidden from him.

 
    “You’d best not be anything like me,
girl, if you know what’s good for you,” he said after a long moment of silence.
He shook his head, sitting himself down on one of the benches that lined the
sidewalk. “C’mere.”

 
    I heaved a sigh, resigning myself to
sit there beside him, my head in my hands as the rest of the world passed us
by. I felt so small in the grand scheme of things, a tiny little ant that was
about to get crushed underneath a massive financial boot. It all felt like too
much.

 
    “What do I do, Daddy?”

 
    “Don’t start drinking,” he said, his
hand resting on my back.

 
    “You know what I mean,” I said,
unable to stop the laugh bubbling up from my throat.

 
    “I do, but you already know the
answer. You got to work hard, baby girl, and maybe—one day—you’ll be free. But
if I know the world, then it sure as hell won’t make it easy for you.”

 
    “You’re not making a very convincing
argument against drinking, Dad,” I said, finally lifting my head from my hands.

 
    He smiled patiently, maybe even
regretfully. “I know, but that’s way too easy for my little girl. You always
take the hard path in life, never once goin’ for the shortcut , even when you know you’ve earned the break. That’s what I
love about you. It’s what makes you better than your old man.”

 
    “Don’t say that, Daddy,” I
whispered, looking over at him only to catch tears glistening in his eyes. It
hurt to see him cry. It hurt deep down to my core.

 
    “Our family has a bad history of
workin’ hard our whole lives without getting anywhere, Gigi. That isn’t what I
want for you—it’s not what you deserve. You’re worth more money than any fancy
law firm could ever pay you. You’re
smart as a damn whip. You deserve to make it in life—you deserve better...”

 
    I reached out, grasping my father’s
hand as I looked into his old, tired eyes. There were things behind my father’s
gaze I’d never understand, but I knew pain when I saw it, and it ripped me
apart.

 
    He’s
right , I thought, my
grip on his hand tightening before I leaned in to wrap my arms around him. I deserve better than this .

 
    “Let’s get you home, Dad,” I said,
standing up.

 
    My father and I walked what little
distance remained to the bus stop, arriving just in time to catch the last bus
that would pass through for another hour.

 
    Our ride to his house took us almost
two hours, between which we transferred busses twice and sat waiting at a very
crowded depot for almost another half hour. I quickly remembered exactly why I
hated public transportation and why I loved having my own car.

 
    After our intrepid bus trip, it was
another half hour walk to my father’s two-story colonial he’d bought on a
military salary, and had—until recently—been maintaining his sizable mortgage
on by way of his pension. I’d spent the better part of a decade in that house
after my father managed to finally pin down a semi-permanent spot on the base
nearby.

 
    I had my first kiss in that house,
my first drink of wine—I even lost my virginity to Tyrese Freeman after senior
prom in my bedroom. All of that was going to go away, lost to whoever was in
the market for a