Stake That by Mari Mancusi Read Free Book Online Page A

Dad’s coming for our birthday!
    RAYNIEDAY: Yeah, right.
    SUNSHINEBABY: No. I’m serious. I e-mailed him last week and asked him if he’d come to our birthday party. And he wrote back yesterday afternoon. Then the whole Blood Bar Jareth thing went down and I totally forgot until just now.
     
    Okay, time out on the IM transcript to give you a little 411 on the ‘rents and the Dad situation. You see, our mom spent her formative teen years in New York City, during the 1970s. Which means she should have been all into disco, Stu-dio 54, and glittery nightwear, right? Partying it up, doing lots of speed, having sex with strangers. Whatever those disco divas used to do. But no. Not my mom. My mom decided to leave the city to head out to this commune upstate. A place where they wore woven clothing and milked cows and sheared sheep. I’m still thinking there were heavy drugs involved to make her want to get up close and personal to smelly, hairy barnyard animals, but probably more the hallucinatory hip-pie dippy drugs rather than coke or something.
    Anyway, at the commune she met my dad. He was trying to “find himself” even then. And he thought a beautiful, blond and barefoot hippie like my mom would be just the ticket to his happiness. He wooed her off the farm, bought her a house in the Massachusetts suburbs, and knocked her up with twins. My mom totally worshiped the ground he walked on, even though mostly he spent his time walking all over her.
    About four years ago, he told Mom he felt “trapped” and he needed time to “find himself.” At first, I kind of under-stood. After all, our town is pretty dull. But I became a little doubtful of this pilgrimage to self-realization when I learned the method of travel was a brand-new red Corvette; his Mecca was evidently the holy city of Las Vegas; and his secre-tary, Candi, was along for the ride. We haven’t seen him since. Not that I’ve wanted to. In fact, up until now I’ve always said I’d sooner join the cheer-leading squad and go out with quarterback Mike Stevens than bond with dear old Dad. And that’s saying something.
     
    RAYNIEDAY: So let me get this straight. You e-mailed Dad?
    SUNSHINEBABY:J
    RAYNIEDAY: And you asked him to our birthday party?
    SUNSHINEBABY: Yup, yup.
    RAYNIEDAY: And he said … YES?!?!?
    SUNSHINEBABY: Isn’t that awesome? I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. RAYNIEDAY: I can’t believe he said yes. He never comes to these kinds of things. We haven’t seen him in years. Are you SURE he said yes?
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    SUNSHINEBABY: I’ll forward you the e-mail. Hold on
     
    To:[email protected]
    From:[email protected]
     
    Hiya kiddo,
     
    Great to hear from you. Sounds like you’re doing well in school. Congrats on your role in the senior class play. Maybe you’ll be the next Lindsay Lohan.
    I can’t believe you two are turning seventeen. I remem-ber when you were tiny screaming babies running around in diapers. How time flies.
    Anyway, I just checked my Day-Timer and it doesn’t look like anything’s going on the weekend of your party. And I was able to find a cheap flight on JetBlue. So count me in!
    I’ll even bring the birthday cake. There’s a bakery down the street from me that’s to die for. Thanks again for thinking of me.
     
    Love,

Dad
     
    RAYNIEDAY: Wow. I can’t believe it. I don’t know what to say.
    SUNSHINEBABY: I know. Me neither. I just sent the e-mail figuring that it’d guilt him a bit into remembering he had daughters that he never communicated with. I never in a billion years thought he would actually say yes and come.
    RAYNIEDAY: He could still blow us off.,..
    SUNSHINEBABY: No way. He bought a plane ticket and e-mailed me the itinerary. And he rented a hotel room downtown. He’s definitely coming.
    RAYNIEDAY: Wow. I can’t believe it.
     
    Anyway, the chatting goes on, but that’s the important bit. Sunny ends up signing off to