“I know, Dad. I know. I just … I felt trapped, and I did something stupid,” she replied, trying to catch her breath.
“That's hitting the nail on the head. Now, I didn't actually call to talk to you,” he said.
“Mike's not here.”
“I don't want to talk to him.”
“Then who …,” Misch's voice trailed off, and understanding dawned. She turned and stared at Tal.
“Yup. Put him on the phone,” her dad instructed her.
“Why would you think he's here?” Mischa tried.
“Because I know you, and I know you wouldn't just go off with some random guy. If you went this far, then you must think he's a good guy. And if he's a good guy, then he sure as shit better be taking care of my little girl when she's hurting – even if he's part of the problem. Now put him on the phone,” her dad demanded again.
“I can't do that, Dad. I can't. He -,”
Tal solved the problem by yanking the phone away from her.
“Mr. Duggard, sir,” he said in a serious voice.
Mischa tried to grab the phone away, but Tal got up and moved to stand at the foot of the bed. She grabbed a pillow and hugged it to her chest while her teeth worked overtime on her bottom lip.
“Yes, sir … yes, I was aware … no, not necessarily … I'm sorry, sir, but your daughter is a very attractive woman … no, that's not all, I also think she has an amazing spirit and mind … it was very hard, I knew it was gonna be bad. Knew it was gonna be worse than what she thought … I do, sir … Tal Canaan … the army … New York, then Israel … sometimes … oh, yeah … Mets!? Are you insane!? Yankees all the way! … no, no, no, we'll go to a game, and we'll see who's right … okay, that I can handle – as long as it's not the Pats … yes, sir … yes, I already do … you can trust -, well, I'll prove to you that you can trust me … one question – did he tell you that he grabbed her? Hard enough to leave bruises … yes, sir, I had the same thoughts, sir,” Tal's voice started getting hard. The conversation Mischa had been overhearing was surreal enough; she didn't want to listen to them bashing Mike, when he was the innocent party.
“Stop it! Give me the phone!” she hissed, knee walking to the end of the bed and holding out her hand. He batted her away.
“Yes, sir, I couldn't believe it either … pushed her around, called her names … I'd be happy to, sir … she wouldn't let me, or believe me, I'd be there right now, shoving his -,” but he didn't get to finish, because Mischa grabbed his wrist and yanked as hard as she could. He hadn't been looking at her and he let out a shout of surprise, dropping the phone. She quickly grabbed it and put it to her ear.
“It's not as bad as he's making it sound,” she said quickly.
“Michael hurt you!?” her dad was almost shouting.
“No. I mean, not on purpose,” she replied.
“Bruising you is too much, Mischa, I don't care what you did to him!”
“They're tiny, on my arms, from his fingers. He just squeezed too hard, he was upset. Let it go, both of you,” she made her voice stern as she glared up at Tal. “He's been through a lot, because of me, and on top of that, he was blindsided. He's allowed to be upset.”
“Fine. But if he touches you like that again, I'm gonna tell that Tal guy to kick his ass,” her dad threatened.
“Stop it. And 'Tal guy'!?” she exclaimed. Her dad and Tal being on a first name basis. Unreal.
“He seems like a nice boy, Misch. Though he can't be all good if he chases married women, and likes the Yankees,” her dad commented.
“Everyone likes the Yankees, you're the only who doesn't,” she pointed out.
“I'm the only one with any common sense.”
“You're really okay with this?” Mischa asked, sinking back down to sitting position.
“Hell no. But I love you, and I always thought things weren't right between you and Mike. Like I said, I wish things hadn't happened this way. I'm not proud of what you did. But I am happy that you seem happy,” he answered. She closed her eyes.
“Thanks, Dad,” she whispered.
“You are happy, right? He's taking care of you?” he double checked.
“He takes excellent care of me. I was very happy up until this morning,” she chuckled.
“Well, I can't say that you don't deserve it. But don't beat yourself up too much – everyone else is gearing up to do enough of that on their own,” her dad assured her.
“I know. I got it from Mom and Lacey today. I stopped answering the phone.”
“Speaking of your mom, I made this call when I knew she'd be sleeping. She is one unhappy camper, sweetie. You're gonna be getting that for a while,” her dad warned her.
“I know. I figured.”
“You 'figured'. If you knew it was gonna be this bad, then why'd you do it?” he questioned.
Mischa sighed and rubbed her forehead, not sure how to answer that question. It wasn't like she could say “sexual frustration” to her dad, that was just weird. Or that she'd only planned on having a one night stand and not telling anyone, that sounded worse. And she really didn't want to rehash all the bullshit between her and Mike that had driven her to it.