Page 58 of Hearts of Wealth

“Yeah, well, I’ve been around a lot longer than you and have had plenty of time to develop my stubborn streak.”

“Thank you, Dad,” I whispered, my voice choked with emotion. “Thank you for everything.”

He pulled me into a tight embrace, holding me close as I let my tears flow freely. It was the first time I was able to really let my emotions out with him since the heart attack. He soothed me, patting my head just like he used to when I was a little girl.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m going to be fine. I got a glimpse of what could happen. You could say I’ve been scared straight. I’ll keep up on my doctor visits, and I will change my diet. I’m going to be fine. I feel a little stronger every single day. I’m not going anywhere for a while.”

“Good.” I sighed and stood up, wiping my eyes. “I don’t want you to leave me. If you do, I’m going to be very, very mad at you.”

“I know. There’s something else me and that man of yours have been talking about.”

“Oh no,” I laughed through my tears. “I’m not sure this friendship is going to be good for me.”

“He told me about the trip up to the Hamptons. I’ll be going along. I want you to go, and apparently, you and I are a package deal these days. I want to make sure you get the chance to have fun.”

“You’re really going to go?” I asked with surprise.

“I guess I am.”

“I think that’s going to be really good for you,” I said. “The beach and fresh air will be restorative.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said and waved me away. “Now you can go. You’ve verified I’m still breathing. I’m going to finish my movie and then take a nap.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“I love you, too.”

I left his room and decided to go up to the house to tell Timothy the news in person. I was also going to scold him for talking to my father about things I wanted to deal with on my own. I parked my truck and knocked on the front door.

Timothy opened it with a warm smile. “This is a nice surprise.” He kissed me and pulled me inside. “What brings you here?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” I said.

Timothy raised an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like I’m in trouble?”

“Because you are,” I told him.

We made our way into the kitchen.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“He asked me why I wasn’t moving in with you,” I said.

He grimaced. “And you’re mad that I told him.”

“No, not really, but I do wish you would have let me tell him.”

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I was just talking to him.”

“Well, all your talking has led him to make a decision.”

“A decision about what?” he asked.

“He insists I move in with you. He doesn’t want me to stop living my life.”

“I’m having a hard time thinking this is a bad thing.” He smiled.

“Oh, let me tell you the rest of the story,” I laughed. “You’ve apparently extended an invitation to him as well. I’m here to tell you he has accepted.”