Colour. Part 7

“Mom, I love you. I have to go to bed.”

“Okay. Love you, too. And Johanna? Please call your dad, okay? Promise me you will.”

“Mom...”

“I have enough to worry about right now, Jo. Please do this for me.”

I rolled my eyes. “Okay. I’ll call him back.”

“That’s my girl. Talk to you soon.”

We hung up and I toyed with my cell a while before I reluctantly dialed his number. My mother’s one true power was getting people to make a promise. Well, getting most people to make a promise. It didn’t stick with Dad.

He answered right away, as I knew he would.

“Johanna.” His voice was crisp but polite. He must have been out somewhere in public with his so-called friends slash associates.

“Mom said you called her.”

“I thought you might be living there,” he explained stiffly. “I didn’t know you were living in the city.”

“What’s up, Dad?” I tried to sound as casual as possible.

“I wanted to see how you were. It’s been a long time.”<