Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HAZEL
My Uber dropped me off at my van. I loved the van. I did. But that didn’t mean I wanted to sleep in it. Not when there was still an amazing bed less than a football field away. Why should I suffer just because Tucker wouldn’t unlock the gate to his heart?
I started heading over there, then spotted my dad on the porch doing…jumping jacks?
“One sixty-three,” he panted. “One sixty-four…”
“Dad.” The man hated all forms of exercise except lifting—as in lifting chips into your mouth. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like?” He huffed like a steam engine. “I’m supposed to be moving more. One sixty-five—”
His monitor beeped.
“Stop!” I ran up the porch. “Dad. Seriously? Sit down right now.”
He dropped onto the swing, breathing hard.
We hadn’t talked much since the worksite “discussion” in the closet, unless At least it’s not going to rain today or I’ll grab some groceries on my way home counted. Either way, things seemed lighter between us, and I’d be lying if I didn’t acknowledge how much that meant to me.
But at the sight of him sweaty and a little shaky, suddenly his getting bossy with me on the jobsite no longer mattered.
“Deep, slow breaths,” I said, my own heart hammering as well. I did as I preached, in through my nose and out my mouth, nodding when he did the same. The alarm quieted, and I narrowed my eyes. “What is going on?”
“I’m taking my recovery seriously.”
I studied him. “You’ve been fighting this for months. Why are you all of a sudden working out? Is there news from your doctor?”
He looked away.
“Dad. You’re scaring me.”
“I don’t have any news.” He sighed. “I wanted you to see me trying.”
“So…you’re doing this for me?”
“Hazel, everything I do is for you.”
I didn’t know what to say to this. “Like kicking me out of the house the night I graduated from high school?” Huh, guess I knew exactly what I wanted to say.
A wince came and went across his features. “That was…very wrong of me.”
I raised a brow. Whenever we’d danced around this subject in the past, it’d turned into a fight.
But this time, he kept his voice quiet. Earnest. His smile was wry as he said quietly, “Hi. My name is Bill Pierce, and I was fifty-nine years old when I apologized for the first time ever.”
“You’re sixty. And I didn’t hear an apology.”
He rolled his eyes. No shock where I’d gotten that skill. “I was wrong,” he said again. “And I’m truly sorry. I’ve regretted it every day since, but I didn’t know how to take it all back. I didn’t even mean half the things I said. I was just…”
“Furious because I was a wild, untethered, angry teen,” I supplied helpfully.
“Yes,” he said. “It made me angry to watch my beautiful, smart, amazing daughter throw her life away.” His voice cracked as he scrubbed a hand down his face, which suddenly looked older than I wanted it to.
“But as your father…there should’ve been nothing you could do or say to make me tell you to get out.
” He met my gaze, his own bleak. “I hate that I said those things to you. Because I was wrong, Hazel. And I’ve wasted so much time.
That’s on me. But I’m done living with all this regret.
I don’t deserve it, but I want a second chance with you.
” He cleared his throat and shifted to get up, probably assuming I was done discussing this.
Instead, I caught his hand and bumped my shoulder to his. “I was almost thirty years old when I learned how to apologize,” I said quietly. “I’m sorry too, Dad.”
He stared at me, then gave me a small smile before shaking his head. “Don’t give me the out, Hazel. I was the grown-up. If your mom had been around, she’d have kicked my ass, and I’d have deserved it.”
My throat felt tight because he was right.
My mom had been a fierce mama bear when it came to me, her cub, and God, I missed her so fucking much.
“After we lost her, I put you through hell,” I said, voice quavery as I gave a watery laugh.
“I mean, I could find trouble with my eyes closed, and I almost always brought that trouble to your door. I was angry and horrible, and for what it’s worth, I truly am sorry. ”
He gripped my hand tight. “Neither of us knew how to grieve. And then you left. I thought I’d never get you back.”
I set my head on his shoulder. “I’m sorry it took you having a heart attack to get me here. But—”
“No, don’t say it, don’t say you’re leaving so soon.
” He shook his head, eyes pleading. “Let me have tonight, okay? You’re here, and for now, that’s enough.
” He put our linked hands against his chest, over his heart.
“Having you here these past few months, it’s been…
” He swallowed hard. “Everything. I hope you know that.”
I nodded, and he gave a small smile. “I’ve heard the stories, you know.
You’ve been going around town late at night fixing and renovating and rebuilding things.
Helping people. I went to see for myself.
The shelter work was my favorite. Emma said the women cried when they saw it finished.
And you fixed the jungle gym at the park. ”
I’d done that last week, then watched as a little girl climbed all over it, her mom smiling up from a bench nearby. I’d watched for a long moment, a lump in my throat.
This. This was what staying would look like.
“The work you’ve done has people talking about you—in a good way.”
“Righting my wrongs,” I corrected. Which felt like ripping out a page I never should’ve written in the first place.
Pride lit up his face, so bright that it hurt to look at. “Do you want to sleep here tonight?”
I looked at the house and gave a small headshake.
“I apologized,” he said, wounded. “I thought we came to some semblance of peace.”
“It’s not you, Dad. It’s the house. I told you before. It’s hard when this place is still a shrine to Mom. Just walking through…” I pressed a hand to my chest and shook my head.
He stared at me. “I didn’t follow through with my word to make some changes, but I can fix that. I’ll get it cleared out. I promise.”
“That feels too easy.”
“I might need some help.” A flash of guilt crossed his features. “I should’ve done it years ago.” He hesitated, then murmured so quietly, I almost couldn’t hear him: “There’re a lot of things I should’ve done differently.”
Something in his voice had my stomach going tight with an odd feeling—mistrust—and I didn’t like it. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me?”
He drew a deep breath. “I could’ve taken this monitor off last month.” He fiddled with it rather than meet my gaze. “My doctor was satisfied with my condition at my check-in, but I asked to keep wearing it.”
My brain tried to reject this intel. “For…peace of mind?”
He hesitated again.
“Dad.”
“So you’d see me taking care of myself. And stay.”
I had to take a deep breath. “So…you’ve been manipulating me?”
“I didn’t want you to go.” He closed his eyes. “And is that so wrong? You were gone for fucking years. Nothing I ever said brought you any closer. And then this happened.” He gestured to his chest. “And suddenly you wanted to be here, watching over me. Can you blame me if I don’t want it to end?”
Maybe it was my lingering anger with Tucker.
Or the two glasses of mocktails that had over-sugared me up.
Or sitting on this porch finding out that my dad had manipulated—and still was manipulating—me.
Emotions churned in my belly, none of them good.
I stood. “It’s late. I need sleep.” I stopped and looked at him. “I need something from you.”
“Anything.” He jumped to his feet and nodded. “Name it.”
“Honesty going forward, even if I’m not going to like it. One hundred percent, or I’m out.”
He gave a slow nod. “I understand.”
Not the same thing as promising me, but I didn’t exactly have a leg to stand on. Not when I was holding out on telling him so much. Not just about me and Tucker, but also the Seattle job offer, which I still didn’t know what to do with.
My fear was that this time, it’d hurt more to stay than go…
And the secrets were weighing on me. I knew I couldn’t continue to keep them. Not without risking everything.
“I meant what I said about cleaning out the house,” Dad said quietly. “That’s what you wanted, right? To box up your mom’s stuff?”
“I’m not trying to erase her, Dad. I don’t ever want to forget a single thing about her. But it’s not healthy for the house to be exactly as she left it. For anyone.”
“Sybil told me the same thing.”
At her name, I wanted to make a face, but I couldn’t deny she seemed to make him happy. And she was, albeit unknowingly, on my side regarding the house. “I can help.”
His smile was small but genuine. “I’d like that.”
I nodded. “Night, Dad.”
I watched him go inside, then found myself standing on the grass equidistantly between dad’s house, my van, and…Tucker’s house.
I knew where I wanted to go, but was it the smart thing to do while feeling far too emotionally vulnerable and mentally unmoored?
Definitely not.
I tipped my face up to the night sky. The mist had cleared, revealing a blanket of black velvet littered with stars glittering like diamonds. I stood there, beneath it all, feeling small, so small, and then—
Impossibly, three stars streaked in unison across the sky as if they were tethered by invisible string, seemingly coming right at me.
I gasped and blinked, and when I looked again, they were gone.
Heart pounding, I desperately searched the sky. Was I so desperate to be loved that I’d imagined seeing the Star Falls Legend?
My phone rang. Tucker. I connected the call, and he spoke before I could.
“You’re not sleeping in your van.”
I spun around, completely out of breath, but didn’t see him. “Are you stalking me?”
The front door of his house opened, and he stepped out, phone still at his ear.
“Flu took out half of today’s crew, so I’m filling in but forgot my laptop.” He stopped in front of me, sliding his phone away. He studied me for a half a beat before going on alert, scanning the area around us. “What happened?”