Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 72196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72196 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
I nodded in stunned horror.
Oh, God. Lice?
What the fuck did I do with that?
“I’ll take her home to her mother…”
The teacher was already shaking her head. “I’ve told Ms. Hail. She refused to come get her. I know that technically we can’t send her home due to discrimination laws, but she’s miserable. She’s itching, and it’s disrupting her schoolwork. I didn’t know what else to do.”
I nodded.
Why didn’t it surprise me that Allegra refused to help her own daughter?
“Okay.” I looked at my watch. I wouldn’t be making my date with Hannah. “I’ll take her home now. Thank you for calling me. I don’t want her miserable.”
She smiled sadly at me.
“She can return to school tomorrow…”
I held up my hand. “I’ll keep her home for the rest of the week.”
She looked relieved.
“Thank you.”
It was said so quietly that I had to strain to hear it.
My daughter and I walked out of the school minutes later, and I felt like my skin was crawling.
My first step the moment I got into the truck was to Google ‘head lice,’ and what I found literally made my breath catch.
Goddammit, lice were creepy.
Now my head itched.
But instead of freaking way the fuck out, I drove to the pharmacy, bought every box of Rid they had, and drove home.
The next step was to quarantine her to the kitchen. All of my furniture was cloth, and what I read in the articles said that you should clean everything cloth.
Since my daughter hadn’t been here in two weeks, I felt it was safe enough to say that I didn’t have an infestation in my house.
Her head, after closer examination, did.
I wanted to vomit.
I was a man. I could deal with a good deal of shit.
Hell, I was a Marine for twelve years. I’d seen blood, death, gore. You name it, I saw it.
I could deal with roaches and all kinds of gross shit—you see a lot when you’re repossessing cars—and not miss a wink of sleep.
But bugs crawling in my daughter’s hair? Apparently, that was the icky point.
My phone pinged as I saturated my daughter’s head with the first bottle of shampoo.
I ignored it, soaking my daughter’s beautiful hair in it until every inch of it wasn’t shining with the oily goo. Then I washed my hands and said, “Now don’t move for another ten minutes, okay?”
My daughter sneered at me.
What she didn’t do was move.
Whatever.
After making sure my hands were clean of the oily mess, I picked up my phone and read the first text message.
Unknown (12:33 pm.): Don’t forget to bring your cash. They’re selling booster tickets.
I smiled for the first time since I left her.
Travis (12:43 pm): Change of plans. My daughter has head lice. Everything itches (on me, not on her.)
I programmed her phone number into my phone and glanced up at my daughter.
“You okay?”
“Wonderful,” she shot back.
Great!
Not.
“You want some chocolate milk?” I asked her, starting to head to the cabinet to get her a cup.
“No thanks,” she said, stunning me with her answer. “It’s fattening.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Who told you that?”
“Mom.”
Fucking Allegra.
My phone pinged, so I shut the cabinet door and went for it.
Hannah (12:45 pm): Oh, no! Do you need any help?
I grunted, liking that she was willing to help.
What I didn’t want was for her to have the chance of getting it, so I said no.
An hour later, I was still trying to pick the little bitches out of her hair, and I knew that this wasn’t going to be done on my own. So I bit the bullet and sent the text that I didn’t want to send.
Travis (1:45 pm): I can’t get them out. Who the hell invented this stupid goddamn metal brush? It’s not picking up anything!
Hannah (1:47 pm): I’ll be there in ten minutes. Give me directions.
I did, and hit send, thankful that someone was coming to help me.
I could’ve called my mother, and probably should have, but the idea of having Hannah here while I went through this was enough to make me ignore the idea of doing the right thing.
I’d just gotten through another miniscule amount of hair when I heard the doorbell ring.
My heart leapt.
“Be right back, honey,” I said.
When I opened the door, it was to find Hannah standing there, a large bag in her hands, and in a new t-shirt and a pair of shorts.
“I brought sustenance. Take me to your leader.”
I snorted and opened it wide.
“Thank you, Hannah.”
She winked. “No problem.”
And she proved that by spending the next three hours picking the world’s worst thing ever out of my kid’s hair.
***
Present day
“I don’t understand,” I groaned to the sky. “Why is it always her making waves?”
“I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a million times,” Reed grunted as he watched the TV in my living room. “You’re fucking her over. You’re fucking everybody over for that bitch’s promise that she won’t do anything, yet, she is doing stuff. Your kid is a fucking asshole. I’m sorry to say that bro, but she’s Allegra’s mini-me, and she’s damn mean. She won’t even look at me without sneering. I didn’t even do anything to her.”