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“I’m in.”
He smiled. He looked genuinely excited. Had he been worried about what we would be doing for the upcoming holidays? We barely talked anymore. It felt odd not knowing everything that went through his mind. More guilt piled on top of my heartache.
When I got home later that evening, I showered and flopped onto my bed with my Kindle. I was in the mood to escape my thoughts and the real world. I hadn’t gotten past the first page when there was a soft knock on my bedroom door.
“Come in.”
Dad poked his head through the doorway. “Whatcha doin’ tonight?”
I lifted my Kindle. “You’re looking at it.”
“I thought you’d be off with Tanner.”
Just the sound of his name was like a knife through my chest. “No. I ended things with him.”
“Can I ask why?” He sat on the edge of my bed.
“I got punched in the eye because of a fight he started.”
Dad took the Kindle from my hands and set it down on my nightstand. “I always thought your mom would be around to have these talks with you.” He chuckled. “You’re eighteen, and you’re dating. I don’t know where the time went.”
“I often wonder what Mom would say if she were here. I didn’t get the chance to know her well enough.”
“Well, I knew her. You can ask me a question, and I can try to tell you what I think she would’ve said.”
I smiled. “I like that idea.”
He stuck out his chest and lifted his chin. “Go ahead. Try me.”
The way I’d been treating Dad since we’d left Florida was wearing on me. I didn’t know if it was due to my recently damaged defenses, or if I was feeling the upcoming holiday spirit, but I felt weakened under the weight of my emotions. My fading resolve had me missing the way things used to be between us.
“Tanner has a huge heart. He’s funny, and caring. He’s handsome.”
“Those are all very good qualities.”
“He has anger issues, though. I get where it all comes from. His dad is really sick. He’s dying, actually.”
“Oh, no. What from?”
“Cancer.”
“Ah …”
“But his anger makes him do crazy things. It’s like he’s a different person. I’m worried that he could really hurt somebody someday.”
“Do you ever feel like he could hurt you?”
I shook my head. “No. It was never directed at me. Then again, we haven’t fought. I’ve only known him for a short time. I don’t really know what he’s capable of, and that scares me.”
“Well, as your father, I will say that his anger worries me, too. Your mother, on the other hand, would tell you to ask your heart what it’s feeling.”
“All my heart tells me is what I feel for him. Not very helpful.”
“Your mom was a firm believer in following your heart. She would say that your head only makes you worry about things, and it could create an entire problem out of nothing. She always said your head is not to be trusted.”
“She sounds so brave.”
“She was.” Dad’s eyes gleamed. “She was brave right until the very end.”
