“Charlotte!”
Exhaling through the sudden tightness in my chest, I gave my friends a wave. “Bye, guys. Have a great Christmas.”
“You too, babe,” Lowe stepped forward and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. When I lifted my eyes to smile at him, he winked, making me feel not so lost. Grateful, I squeezed his hand and then spun around quickly, darting through the crowd toward my dad and away from Jake.
There was no snow to drive through and Dad said he’d made the trip in just under two hours. Two hours in the car with a dad you hadn’t seen in three months should’ve been a breeze. We had lots to catch up on, but after the Jake encounter, Dad was quiet. Tense and quiet.
“How’s Mom?” I finally asked, fed up with the silence. I was tired enough I could close my eyes and go to sleep, but I’d just gotten home. I wanted to chat with my dad.
Dad’s hands clenched around the steering wheel. “I can’t believe he had the audacity to offer me his hand.”
I sighed. Really, this shouldn’t surprise me. Dad was a stewer—he stewed until he was ready to vent. It had taken him twenty minutes of stewing to get to the venting part. Damn. I really should’ve closed my eyes. “Dad—”
“I didn’t agree with him being back in your life but your mom told me to leave it, that you were a grown-up and could make your own decisions … but to see him standing there, and with his arms around another girl right in front of you.”
“Dad—”
“No, Charley.” He shook his head, his brow wrinkled with deep furrows. “I’m a realist, okay. Most sixteen-year-olds aren’t going to end up with the person they’re dating in high school. That’s reality. Most of it is puppy love or temporary love or just plain old lust. But I watched you two together and I thought, well, they’re just like me and Delia.”
He’d never admitted that to me before.
Pain cut through me and I looked out the passenger window, trying to control the emotion.
“I was like Jake in high school. Ask your mom. I had a bit of a rep for fooling around with a lot of girls and yeah, I know you don’t want to hear that, but it’s the truth. Then I came home after one summer at my grandma’s in Virginia and I walked into class and there was Delia. Sitting on her desk, feet on her chair, laughing her ass off at something her girlfriend was saying. As I approached she turned her head to smile at me, and I swear to God, that smile … it knocked me on my ass. I don’t know why I never noticed her before, but there she was and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. I was a goner.” He sighed. “First time I saw Jake smile at you, I thought, hell, here we go again. And because of that I saw myself in him and I began to trust him with you. And I’m not stupid. I know he took everything from you—”
“Oh, God, Dad …” I groaned, mortified.
“—but I thought to myself, these kids are forever. I let myself care about that son of a bitch. I was cut up for him over what happened to Brett. Then he broke my little girl. Stomped all over what she gave him. Now he’s back offering me his hand as he willfully messes with your head. Flaunting another girl in front of you. I ought to swing this car around and kill him.”
Somehow I managed to keep calm as I looked back at him. “Dad, I have to move past it.”
“Move past it …” He glanced at me, still furious. “He wasn’t there. He didn’t watch his little girl—the strongest, bravest kid I’ve ever met—cry for days when he left and then just go numb. I remember it was months before I heard you laugh again. And even then, we never got you back the way you were. With what happened to Brett and then Jake taking away so much, you grew this look, this cynical little look in your eye no kid your age should have.”
I shuddered, wrapping my arms around my stomach. “Dad, don’t.”
“I’m saying this now and then we’re done talking about it.” He shot me a hard look. “Letting this boy back in your life is a mistake. Fix it before he breaks you again.”
Every year a six-foot Christmas tree took pride of place in front of the sitting room window. Pale white lights glittered over every branch. Metallic strings of red and silver wove from branch to branch like scalloped lace. You could tell which gifts Mom had wrapped because they matched the tree. And even though we were twenty and twenty-four years old, stockings hung from the mantel for Andie and me. To my delight, this year a third stocking hung in the middle with Rick’s name on it.
I had to admit it I almost peed my pants laughing upon discovering my mom had sewn his name on and hung a stocking for a thirty-four-year-old police detective.
Apparently Rick had graciously thanked her, his mouth twitching with laughter. Andie had had to leave the room so she wouldn’t embarrass Mom by collapsing into a fit of giggles.
I wasn’t nearly as considerate.
Mom didn’t even flinch. She just couldn’t see what was wrong with mothering a man who was only ten years her junior.
“So did you try haggis?” Rick asked, sipping at his hot cocoa. Mom had made cocoa for all us of and we were snuggled up warm in the sitting room. It was Christmas Eve, the fire roaring, the light darkening in the early afternoon sky. The five of us were relaxing and just enjoying being together. Rick was raised by his single mother—he’d never met his father—but she passed five years ago. He’d gotten a Christmas vacation this year and was spending the whole time with Andie and us. We wouldn’t have it any other way.
I was lying with my back pressed against the bottom of Dad’s armchair, my legs stretched out alongside the fire. I sipped my cocoa and nodded. “Yeah, it wasn’t as bad as you’d think, but it’s hard to fully enjoy something when you know it’s encased inside sheep stomach.”
Andie made a gagging noise. “I can’t believe you tried it.” She frowned. “No, wait, scratch that. It’s you. Of course you tried it.”
“I also tried a deep-fried Mars bar. I’m ashamed to admit I tried it a couple of times.”
“That’s revolting,” Mom huffed. “You told me you were eating well.”
“At least I’m eating.”
That garnered a grunt.
“I hope you aren’t drinking too much with you being legal over there?” Dad asked, pulling gently on my ponytail.
I craned my neck to grin up at him. “Would I overimbibe just because of a legality?”