Chapter 26 Elena
Dad's porch light was on when I pulled up Thursday evening. Daisy saw the house and started whining before I'd even turned off the engine.
"Yeah, I know. We're here."
I opened the door and she bolted, bounding up the porch steps to where Dad was already waiting. He crouched down and let her jump all over him, knees creaking in protest.
"Yeah, yeah. I missed you too." He scratched behind her ears, and she melted. Absolutely shameless.
"She likes you better than me," I said, climbing the steps.
"I feed her table scraps. You feed her that organic nonsense." He stood up, gave me a quick one-armed hug. "Come on. Chili's almost done."
Inside, the house smelled like cumin and chili powder and cornbread. Thursday dinners had been Dad's rule since I'd moved closer to the clinic. Weekly check-ins disguised as chili night. I grabbed the oven mitts and pulled out the cornbread while Dad stirred the pot on the stove.
"Want to grab the bowls?" he asked.
I pulled two from the cabinet, the blue ceramic ones Mom had loved, and set them on the table. Daisy had already sprawled on the kitchen floor in her usual spot, watching us both like this was the most fascinating thing she'd ever seen.
We worked in comfortable silence. Him ladling chili, me slicing cornbread, the routine so familiar I didn't have to think about it.
"So," Dad said as we sat down. "Caleb Wright."
I almost dropped my spoon. "How did you—"
"Margie told me. Ran into her at Mae's last week." He took a bite of chili, unbothered. "You know how she is. Been my receptionist for twenty years, now she's yours, and she still reports back like I'm her boss."
"Unbelievable."
"She said you've been smiling. At work." He looked at me. "That got my attention."
I stared at my bowl. "It's new. And I wasn't hiding it. I just didn't know what to say yet."
"You don't have to say anything." He went back to his chili. "But I'm glad."
"Yeah?"
"Caleb's good people. Used to see him around with his grandmother when he was a kid. Went straight into construction out of high school, worked his way up." He ate another bite. "He built those shelves in my workshop, you know. Few years back. Still solid. That tells you what you need to know."
I felt something ease in my chest. "Yeah. It does."
"He treating you right?"
"Yeah. He is."
Dad nodded, satisfied. "Good."
We ate in silence for a moment. Daisy had gotten up and positioned herself next to Dad's chair, staring with those big hopeful eyes.
"Don't even think about it," I said.
Dad slipped her a piece of cornbread.
"Dad."
"What? She's a good dog. Deserves spoiling." He scratched under her chin and she wagged so hard her whole back end moved.
I took another bite of chili, let the silence settle. Then: "I ran into Matt. Last weekend. At the hardware store."
Dad nodded slowly, chewing. "How'd that go?"
"Weird. Awkward." I stared at my bowl. "Caleb was there."
"Ah." He was quiet for a moment. "That must've been something."
"It was fine. Caleb handled it." I shrugged. "But it was still strange."
Dad reached for his water glass. "You know what your mother used to say?"
I looked up.
"She said you can't pretend the past didn't happen. But you can't live there either." He shrugged. "So you remember. But you keep going."
My throat tightened. "It's complicated. Having him here."
"Most things worth doing are."
"But you think—" I hesitated. "You think it's okay? Me and Caleb?"
Dad looked at me directly. "I think you deserve someone who makes you smile. Sounds like he does." He paused, then added quietly: "Your mother would've liked him."
"Yeah," I said quietly. "I think she would have."
We finished eating. I stood to clear the plates and Dad joined me at the sink, me washing, him drying. Same as always.
"You should bring him by sometime," Dad said. "Caleb."
"Yeah?"
"Just want to get a read on him."
I handed him a bowl. "You're not going to—Dad. Tell me you're not going to do the shotgun thing."
"What shotgun thing?"
"You know what I mean."
"Last I recall, you were the one greeting your ex-husband with a shotgun."
I frowned, but there was no heat in it. "That was different."
"Was it?" His eyes crinkled. "No shotgun, then. I promise."
A pause.
"But I am cleaning my guns that day. For unrelated reasons."
"Dad."
"What? They need cleaning."
I smiled. "Unbelievable."
He hung up the dish towel. "Bring him by sometime. Thursday dinner."
"I'll ask him."
"Good."
Dad walked us to the door. On the porch, Daisy was reluctant to leave. She kept looking back at Dad like I was kidnapping her.
"Come on, traitor."
Dad scratched her ears one more time. "She's got good taste."
I hugged him. "Thanks, Dad."
"For what?"
"Just—thanks."
He patted my shoulder. "Drive safe, Ellie-bug."
In the truck, Daisy sprawled across the passenger seat, looking betrayed. I pulled out my phone before starting the engine.
Dad wants to meet you. Dinner sometime.
Three dots appeared almost immediately.
Yeah?
Fair warning, he's cleaning his guns that day. For unrelated reasons.
A longer pause.
It's okay if you're uncomfortable. We can wait.
Not uncomfortable. I look forward to it.
Tell me when, and I'll be there.
I smiled.
Okay. Good.
I set the phone down and started the engine. Daisy sighed heavily from the passenger seat, still mourning the loss of her favorite human.
"Drama queen," I told her.
She didn't argue.