Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
When Willow sat back again, Emmett scratched his face in a way that she did when she was hiding a tear. It made her heart break a little. Then he looked around the room and said wistfully, “I remember you used to spend hours out here.”
Willow followed his gaze, taking in the big mirrors that she’d got one birthday and helped her dad install, the barre that started off as an old curtain pole but was upgraded when things got more serious.
The piano that her Uncle Joel had donated when he bought himself a new one.
She thought of when her mom would play and she would dance, over and over for hours on end.
“I need to be honest with you, Willow.”
She narrowed her eyes, had a feeling what was coming. “What?”
With a resigned shake of his head, he said, “I don’t like ballet.”
She snorted a laugh. “You don’t say!”
Emmett shifted guiltily in his seat at the confession.
Willow said, “Dad, I don’t much like cows, but I’ve done the cattle drive for you for half my life. It’s not about liking it. It’s watching simply because I’m in it.”
“I know.” He held his hands wide in defeat. “I suppose I didn’t think you’d much mind if I was there or not.”
“Well,” Willow replied. “Now you know.”
“Now I do know,” he said, as if it had been made very clear. “And you felt like that every time your mother came to New York to see you perform?”
She shrugged because now they were on better terms she didn’t want him to feel bad. “A little bit.”
He looked at her, seemed like he was trying to see her objectively. Before he said anything else, he said, “Is that my jacket?”
She nodded. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to steal it.”
“It looks better on you than it does on me.”
She laughed.
He smiled and his whole face softened. He said, “I got so upset about Diamond Creek, Willow, because one thing about you is that you’re straight up, always have been. I’ve relied on you—on that quality of yours.”
She felt a lump in her throat at the compliment, unaware that was how he thought of her.
“But now I wonder if maybe I’ve taken your presence for granted.
I just assume you’ll be around. I know you work away, but you visit all the time and, if you can, you come for holidays, Christmas, Thanksgiving—I know you’ll be here.
But with the boys, it still amazes me that they’re back.
” He paused, trying to figure out what he wanted to say.
“It’s not that I love you any less. It’s that you’re … dependable.”
She made a disgruntled face at the word.
“Your mother’s dependable. It’s a good thing to be,” he insisted. “But it does mean you can get taken for granted sometimes—that’s what she tells me, anyway.”
“Taken for granted can feel a lot like forgotten, Dad,” Willow replied.
He nodded. “I appreciate that.”
There was a pause. The rain had got heavier, thrumming on the roof. She felt like a little girl again, it felt so childish asking for his attention, but she realized how much it seemed to tie in with the validation of who she was and what she was worth.
He said, “I should have come to all your shows. I’m a fool.”
“Yes, you are,” she replied, joking because it was easier than sincerity. “And you should have come to Zoey’s recital.”
He winced. “Yes, I should have.” Then he gave a sigh of resignation. “When’s the next one?”
“There aren’t any more,” she said. “Class is over. I’m going back.”
“That’s too bad,” he replied, badly masking his relief at not having to sit through a kids’ recital.
“You can still come to New York, though.”
He frowned at the idea, couldn’t help himself. He hated leaving Autumn Falls.
Willow sighed. “You know they stream it now,” she said. “You can watch it from the comfort of your own home.”
That news perked him up. “I can? Well, I like that idea.”
“But you’re not allowed to do anything else at the same time as watching.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
She narrowed her eyes shrewdly, knowing he’d be sitting on the couch ordering equipment from his catalogues, or bottle-feeding baby calves, doing the crossword. But maybe he’d look up from time to time and see her.
“You feel all right about going back?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think so.”
“Don’t sound so sure.”
“I’ve liked it here.”
“I’ve liked having you here.” He smiled then added, “You don’t have to go.”
“I do.” She wrapped the coat around herself. “It’s what I do and I’m good at it, Dad. I’ve worked so hard.”
He sighed as he sat back and stretched his legs out in front of him. The rain tapped against the roof like pebbles on the beach. “It’s how I feel about ranching,” he said. “Can’t do it so much anymore. Doesn’t take away from what I did, though.”
“But you’d do it if you could,” she countered.
He thought for a moment. “I’m not so sure,” he said, undecided.
“I’ve quite enjoyed taking a back seat. Don’t tell anyone…
” He glanced across with a smile. When she smiled back to show she’d keep his secret, he said, “It’s just a new chapter, Willow.
Mainly I just love having you all back. Can’t believe it sometimes. ”
She turned so she had her back against the wall and rested her head on his shoulder. Their reflection in the mirror opposite was bittersweet, it seemed to capture how quickly time marched on.
“I’ll miss you being here,” he said, reaching over and patting her arm.
“Yeah?”
“Of course,” he said. “Who’ll finish my crossword for me?”
She smiled. “I’m sure you’ll find someone. You got a lot of people to choose from nowadays,” she added, giving him a playful nudge on the shoulder.
He laughed. “Maybe even too many.”
“That’s what I love about you, Dad. Never happy.”