acting off all evening. Did this upset you?”
Yes. “ No ! I am so happy for you, I truly am. Of course I’ll miss you like mad when you’re gone, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
Those blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “Out with it.”
“It’s nothing,” I sputtered.
“Molly…”
I sighed and slumped back on her bed. “Dad’s leaving.”
My alarm bells should have started going off the instant my dad stumbled into the kitchen that morning. I wasn’t sure what he was doing up so early; most days he didn’t crawl out of bed until after I had left for work since the antique store he managed didn’t open until ten o’clock.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he staggered past me and collapsed into a chair at our tiny table. “Is there any coffee?”
“It just finished brewing.”
I slid a steaming mug in front of him and stepped back to give him some room. Dad is not in any sense a morning person—one of the few things I seem to have inherited from him—and he’s usually best left alone until he’s had a chance to work through a couple of cups of coffee, so when he cleared his throat I spun around, startled.
“Molly, we need to talk.”
I glanced at the clock on the microwave. I had twenty minutes to get to work. “Now? I’ve got to run in a couple of minutes. Is something wrong?”
He squared his shoulders but refused to meet my eyes. “The Steins have sold the antique store.”
Oh, no, that wasn’t good at all. I sagged against the counter and bit my lip. Ever since the divorce three years ago Dad had been flaky, quitting jobs at the drop of a hat. The antique store was the first place he had seemed to settle in and find his balance again. I didn’t know if I could take him going back to bouncing from job to job.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m moving back to Garvena.”
My mouth dropped open and I stared at him, speechless. Garvena was a flyspeck on the map of west Texas where his parents lived. Heck, it was so small it didn’t actually show up on a map.
“Mom and Dad are getting older and thinking about retiring, and they want me to take over running the store. Well, I’m going to do it. I need a fresh start, Molly.” His soft, brown eyes finally met mine, pleading with me to understand. “I know I haven’t been good for much since Denise left, but I think if I get away from here maybe I can pick up the pieces.”
Four years ago my mom had bailed on us and gotten remarried almost immediately after the divorce was finalized to a real estate agent named Hank. Hank had a big, brand new house right on the river in Kerrville, drove a BMW convertible, and went to wine tastings all over Texas. He also had a habit of undressing me with his eyes whenever Mom wasn’t looking, so I stayed with Dad after the divorce and didn’t go to visit.
Dad never really bounced back; I think his ego had been totally crushed knowing that he would never have been able to give Mom any of the expensive things Hank had, and afterwards no matter how he measured himself in his head he came up short. It was all baloney, of course. I think if I could have hated my mom I would have for what she had done to him. Dad was a great guy in every way—he was just never going to be wealthy. Up until the divorce he was solid and dependable and had loved his family fiercely, with everything he had. He was also still young enough to have a chance to start over again if he wanted to try badly enough.
How could I stand in his way?
“I think that’s great,” I told him, trying my best to sound upbeat and supportive, although my stomach was a churning vat of acid. Three years of Theater Arts in high school should have made that a lot easier. Maybe if I had gotten more speaking roles.
He blinked in surprise. “You do?”
“Yes. You’ve spent enough time moping over her. Do whatever you have to do to get yourself put back
Yes. “ No ! I am so happy for you, I truly am. Of course I’ll miss you like mad when you’re gone, but I wouldn’t change it for anything.”
Those blue eyes narrowed dangerously. “Out with it.”
“It’s nothing,” I sputtered.
“Molly…”
I sighed and slumped back on her bed. “Dad’s leaving.”
My alarm bells should have started going off the instant my dad stumbled into the kitchen that morning. I wasn’t sure what he was doing up so early; most days he didn’t crawl out of bed until after I had left for work since the antique store he managed didn’t open until ten o’clock.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he mumbled as he staggered past me and collapsed into a chair at our tiny table. “Is there any coffee?”
“It just finished brewing.”
I slid a steaming mug in front of him and stepped back to give him some room. Dad is not in any sense a morning person—one of the few things I seem to have inherited from him—and he’s usually best left alone until he’s had a chance to work through a couple of cups of coffee, so when he cleared his throat I spun around, startled.
“Molly, we need to talk.”
I glanced at the clock on the microwave. I had twenty minutes to get to work. “Now? I’ve got to run in a couple of minutes. Is something wrong?”
He squared his shoulders but refused to meet my eyes. “The Steins have sold the antique store.”
Oh, no, that wasn’t good at all. I sagged against the counter and bit my lip. Ever since the divorce three years ago Dad had been flaky, quitting jobs at the drop of a hat. The antique store was the first place he had seemed to settle in and find his balance again. I didn’t know if I could take him going back to bouncing from job to job.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m moving back to Garvena.”
My mouth dropped open and I stared at him, speechless. Garvena was a flyspeck on the map of west Texas where his parents lived. Heck, it was so small it didn’t actually show up on a map.
“Mom and Dad are getting older and thinking about retiring, and they want me to take over running the store. Well, I’m going to do it. I need a fresh start, Molly.” His soft, brown eyes finally met mine, pleading with me to understand. “I know I haven’t been good for much since Denise left, but I think if I get away from here maybe I can pick up the pieces.”
Four years ago my mom had bailed on us and gotten remarried almost immediately after the divorce was finalized to a real estate agent named Hank. Hank had a big, brand new house right on the river in Kerrville, drove a BMW convertible, and went to wine tastings all over Texas. He also had a habit of undressing me with his eyes whenever Mom wasn’t looking, so I stayed with Dad after the divorce and didn’t go to visit.
Dad never really bounced back; I think his ego had been totally crushed knowing that he would never have been able to give Mom any of the expensive things Hank had, and afterwards no matter how he measured himself in his head he came up short. It was all baloney, of course. I think if I could have hated my mom I would have for what she had done to him. Dad was a great guy in every way—he was just never going to be wealthy. Up until the divorce he was solid and dependable and had loved his family fiercely, with everything he had. He was also still young enough to have a chance to start over again if he wanted to try badly enough.
How could I stand in his way?
“I think that’s great,” I told him, trying my best to sound upbeat and supportive, although my stomach was a churning vat of acid. Three years of Theater Arts in high school should have made that a lot easier. Maybe if I had gotten more speaking roles.
He blinked in surprise. “You do?”
“Yes. You’ve spent enough time moping over her. Do whatever you have to do to get yourself put back
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