Lovesick (Coffee Shop Series Book 2) Page 18

“How are things?” I asked instead.

  “Good.”

  “Any word on your sentencing?”

  “Still on good behavior,” he said. “There’s a chance for parole in a year or two.”

  My eyes widened. That was news. “Really?”

  He nodded a little.

  Resisting the urge to text Ellie a warning was hard.

  Somehow, my dad occupied three spots in my mind. The drunk, the dad figure, and the jailbird. Right now, I couldn’t picture this sedate, boring guy as the one who’d stormed into the Frolicking Moose and almost shot Bethany in a drunken rage.

  But I could never forget it, either.

  “Any news from there?” I asked, then almost winced. How awkward. What could possibly be news in his world?

  He just shook his head, lips puffed in a closed line.

  “I, uh . . . it’s been eventful here,” I said. “Almost drove my car off a cliff the other day.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, but . . . it worked out okay. Car is totaled, but I’m alive.”

  “Good. Insurance cover it?”

  “Not sure. We’re waiting to hear back.”

  “Glad you’re safe.”

  “Me too.”

  Another painful silence. Moments like this reminded me why it seemed so easy for Ellie to cut him from her life without a thought. She hadn’t even spoken his name since that awful day in the coffee shop.

  “Listen, Dad, can we talk about Mama?”

  His features darkened. He shifted a little in his seat but didn’t stop me.

  I pressed on. “I’m . . . I’m trying to remember her. Remember our life together. It seems so long ago, and . . . I’m not sure I’m remembering what was real or who I think she was.”

  He scoffed. “Whoever you thought she was was probably wrong. There wasn’t a person on this planet who could peg Kat down.”

  I frowned. “Okay, but . . . was she a romantic?”

  “She claimed to be a hopeless romantic.”

  My heart sped up. “Was she?”

  He shrugged. “What does that even mean?”

  “You know . . . the kind of person who really believes in love. In the safety and power of romance as a force for good in the world.”

  His brow wrinkled. “That doesn’t sound like her. She was an endless flirt who led men on, had sex with them, and then moved on.”

  I hid a wince. He wasn’t wrong.

  “Did you try to be romantic with her?” I asked.

  “Can you fill a black hole?”

  My nostrils flared with my effort to suppress my annoyance. His bitterness had only grown more concentrated over the past five years.

  “Okay,” I drawled. “That’s fair, I guess. I just realized lately that I think I’ve been a little . . . naive about romance. About love. I’m afraid that I’m too much like Mama, and I’m trying to not go down the path she did.”

  “So what if you are?”

  The question stopped me in my tracks. Then I have to halt my life, reevaluate my plans, and change absolutely everything about myself, I thought. I have to make sure I never do to JJ what Mama did to you. Or me.

  I didn’t answer his question.

  He tilted his head back, as if in thought, for a long stretch. Eventually, he said, “She was always in love with love. It seemed like she wanted an out whenever she realized it wasn’t easy.”

  I ran my memories of Mama through that filter, and it fit.

  “Okay.”

  “That was Kat. Easy, fun, and spontaneous. That’s what she wanted. Whirlwind romance. To be swept off her feet. Prince Charming. That load of bull. She didn’t like responsibility, either,” he added, “which is why we lost electricity so much. You’d think romance would dictate she pay the bills on time.”

  A fault the two of them had shared.

  “Did she love you when you first met?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Did you love her?”

  “Sure.”

  A bitter edge colored his flippant response. He didn’t like this conversation at all. Could I trust his responses? Was he telling me the truth?

  “Why did you marry her?”

  For a moment, I thought he’d end the call. His brow grew so heavy it nearly covered his eyes. Eventually, he said, “Because I think I did love her. I thought we could do anything together. At the time, it felt good.”

  “And then?”

  He scowled. “And then you’d have to ask Trevor how things ended between me and Kat.”

  I blinked. “You knew about Trevor?”

  “Of course I knew what was happening with Trevor,” he growled. “Didn’t take an idiot to figure it out. I let it go for a while because I assumed she’d get bored with him the same as she did with me. Since we had a child together, I thought she’d stay.”

  “She did.”

  “If you could call it that. The night she died? She told me she was going to leave me for him. That’s what we fought about.”

  “I didn’t know that,” I murmured.

  “Lovely, hopeless romantic, wasn’t she? More like a tornado. Kat destroyed everyone she touched. Not even you can deny that.”

  More silence. Mama practically sang the ugly parts of love out of the shadows with her driving need to experience it. To find love. She’d escaped from reality with romance, just like me. Then she broke all our hearts. Who might Dad have been without Mama? What if she hadn’t been so in love with love?

  The lesson here was clear: Mama had destroyed all her relationships with her undying belief in romance.

  And I would never be like her.

  Cracks in my heart fractured what little strength I had left. What if I did the same thing to JJ? Would I turn him into a convict? A mess of a man who felt only bitterness? No, I’d never let that happen. Not to him. Not to me.

  I couldn’t endure that.

  “Thank you,” I croaked to Dad. “This was helpful.”

  Dad nodded, gaze focused off-screen. He drew in a deep breath. Then he let it out and leaned forward a little. “Listen, Lizbeth, this sentiment won’t make me popular, and I’m already a jerk. But the truth is this: if I could make it so I never met Kat, I’d do that. If you ask me, that’s what Kat’s quest for love did. Left regret and broken hearts in its wake. You’d do well to stay as far away from it as you can.”

  He turned the videocall off without another word.

  I closed my computer with a sob.

  28

  JJ

  Dad and I sat across from each other in a crummy diner in Pineville the day after my fight with Mark. The smell of fry oil and fake evergreen permeated the air. Bells jangled on the door every time someone walked in or out. I rubbed a hand over my bleary eyes.

  Dad and I hadn’t seen each other in well over a month. He sent random texts now and then, mostly pictures of fish he’d caught, questions about how we were doing, or queries about how to work his phone. I wondered if he ever felt lonely in his new little cabin by himself. The old house had sold shortly after the divorce was finalized, effectively sealing off my childhood into the realm of history.

  “Your mom called me this morning,” he said.

  His comment puzzled me. Why would Mom call him? The fact that we were sitting in a public place together had me almost as confused. Dad hated crowds. Anything more than three people was too many for him.

  Things had a weird way of tipping upside down quickly.

  “What did she say?” I asked.

  “I didn’t answer.”

  I bit back a laugh. Why that was funny, I had no idea. Maybe it was a sign of my mental state when there’d been no word from Lizbeth. Mark had disappeared somewhere for the night and given me a cold reception this morning when the delivery truck arrived. He’d queried the board about it through Lizbeth’s online dashboard, but I hadn’t seen any responses.

  “Texted her back,” Dad continued, breaking my thoughts. “She responded.”

  I sat with my
elbows on the table, my hands folded together. Two mugs of coffee cooled in front of us.

  Dad watched me in his usual intense way. More of a glower, really. It had always scared rebellion out of me for a few hours when I was a young kid. Mark would usually come up with another brilliant idea shortly after any given punishment ended. Like most things, we’d accomplish the mischief together, despite the infamous Sheriff Bailey stare.

  I managed to meet his gaze, and it surprised me. Today the intensity was softer.

  “She said that something happened and things aren’t great between you and Mark.”

  “It just happened last night,” I muttered in exasperation. “Wait. Did Mark spend the night at her place?”

  Dad shrugged. “You know Kelly,” he muttered. “Always poking around. So something did happen?”

  “Yeah.”

  In the briefest possible terms, I told him everything about the bakery, the contract, and Mark’s response. Dad listened without changing expression.

  Letting it out felt good. Having Dad’s stoic mind puzzle it out was better. Like me, he tended toward facts and logic and didn’t often get emotional. His responses always felt safer to me than Mom’s, which is probably why Mark ended up gravitating toward her.

  “I’d be pissed too,” he said.

  I sighed.

  “You know it was wrong, don’t you?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “So make it right.”

  “How? I signed the stupid contract.”

  Dad waved that off. “Not that. With Mark.”

  “That’s how I make it right.”

  Dad definitely glowered then. “Don’t be an idiot, JJ. Mark’s hurt that you didn’t tell him what you were doing. He tells you everything.”

  “He doesn’t,” I replied softly.

  And that’s when it hit me like a punch to the sternum.

  Mark hadn’t told me about the escalating tensions between Mom and Dad. Or about the impending divorce. I’d been totally blindsided by my parents and siblings. This bakery job? Maybe this had been some convoluted attempt to swing back at him.

  The thought robbed my breath.

  “Damn,” I muttered. Was I that vindictive? I didn’t like that at all.

  “What hasn’t he told you?” Dad asked.

  For five seconds, I sized Dad up.

  “The divorce.”

  A silent question came in the form of grooves between his eyebrows. I looked away, guilty over my anger. My teeth ground into each other until my jaw started to cramp. I forced myself to take a deep breath.

  “Why didn’t you tell me how much you were struggling?” I asked. “Why did everyone leave me out? Megan and Mark knew everything. I had no idea.”

  His expression darkened like a thunderstorm. “It wasn’t on purpose, JJ. I was just keeping my head above water. Plus, I didn’t tell them. Your mom did.”

  “It made me feel like I didn’t matter as much. Like you’d forgotten me.”

  “I’d never forget you, JJ. Your mom turned to Mark quite a bit at the time. She must have sworn him to silence, or something.”

  “And you turned to no one?”

  “That seemed better than relying too much on the three of you,” he countered. “JJ, there’s no easy answer to your question. It was damned if I did, and damned if I didn’t. To lean on my son as a support? That wouldn’t have been fair. You had to live through this too. The pressure of helping me would have made it worse.”

  Certainly an angle I hadn’t thought of. I wondered if Mark resented Mom’s reliance on him. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to know about their issues.

  “I’m sorry, JJ,” Dad said. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more open with you. I’ve been an ass through the divorce, and even after. Maybe before, too, I don’t know. My world’s all flipped around.”

  I blinked, stunned. Well . . . that was something. Dad was rarely wrong in his own eyes. Not sure what to say, I let that sit there. Dad released a long sigh, then shook his head.

  “Have you ever failed at something?” he asked.

  “Of course.”

  “Failed at something that impacted you and everyone you care about?”

  “Probably.”

  “Then maybe you know what it feels like to have your world crumble around you. To see everything you worked for your entire life just . . . fall apart the moment you thought you’d have it.” He shook his head. “I thought if I just kept working, if I focused on what I could do versus what felt . . . impossible . . . then I’d retire, have time to do everything I wanted, and everything would be okay.”

  A thousand scenarios ran through my mind. Things he could be talking about. But they all vanished. Because here sat a man I’d never met: a humbled version of my father. I wiggled in my seat to find a more comfortable position. Dad’s acknowledgment sobered the atmosphere. I couldn’t help but admire him for it.

  “What did you think felt impossible?” I asked quietly.

  “Making her happy.”

  The haunted words cooled the fire in my body, turning my veins to ice. I stared at him, startled to see tears in his eyes. He blinked them back, his voice thick. “I have always loved your mother, JJ, and damn if I didn’t know how to show it. I thought I tried, but . . . maybe I was just deluding myself.”

  “I didn’t know you felt that way.”

  “I know.” He met my gaze again. “Because I didn’t tell you. It’s not . . . it’s not how I was raised. My father never spoke an emotional word in his life. Even on his deathbed, he never told me he loved me. It was always implied, just . . . never spoken.”

  I wanted to get outside. Dig my nails into the rocks. Feel dust crumble beneath my feet as I pushed higher, faster, and harder. Conquer the mountain before it can conquer you. It had always been our motto. But this metaphorical slope felt slippery, like I’d never get a foothold.

  “I should have just told Kelly that I loved her. Let her know how I felt. Now I’m living in my own regrets, and it’s my due.” Dad leaned forward. “Whatever you do, don’t make the same mistakes as me. Clear this up with Mark, all right?”

  The waitress sashayed over, burdened with plates on a too-small tray. We dug into our food for a few minutes, grateful for the reprieve.

  “How is retirement?” I asked.

  “Quiet.”

  “Bet you love that.”

  He half-grinned. “I do. The fish don’t.”

  I laughed. With the air cleared between us, we kept up a steady flow of conversation. Updates on Adventura. Dad’s plans for retirement. Mark’s new spa idea. Dad had kept up with Megan and knew about her relationship with Justin.

  “He seems great. Glad she has him,” Dad said as he reached for his coffee. “What about you? You ever going to settle into something?”

  A few days ago, the answer would have been a firm no, same as always. But Lizbeth had rearranged the puzzle pieces of my future. Although I still hadn’t seen her since the awkward ride home yesterday, I couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that her hair was as soft as I had imagined.

  “Yeah.” I nodded. “Hopefully soon.”

  “Don’t wait.”

  “I won’t,” I said, and I wouldn’t. Dad was right. I needed to talk to her. Tell her how I felt. Clear the uncertainty so we could actually move forward.

  This time, I wouldn’t hesitate.

  I’d talk now.

  Dad raised an eyebrow at my response, took a sip of coffee, then nodded. “Look forward to meeting her.”

  “Was it worth the pain, Dad? To have loved and lost?”

  Dad grabbed a fry and studied it before he nodded. “Every damn minute.”

  JJ: Just had a great lunch with my dad and am heading back. Missed seeing you this morning. Can we talk?

  Lizbeth: Sure.

  JJ: Great, I’ll be home in thirty. Need me to bring you anything?

  Lizbeth: I’m set, thanks.

  29

  Lizbeth

  With dread in my stomach
, I stared at my cell phone. Although JJ’s text had been innocuous, I had a feeling something was about to change.

  Can we talk?

  So simple, yet so terrifying.

  Less than a day ago, I would have felt giddy at the thought of seeing him. Fearless. Now? Utter terror made me cold and shaky. What if JJ wanted to define this? What if he wanted a relationship?

  I’d have to tell him no. I wouldn’t destroy his life.

  A soul-deep crack had formed in my chest during my call with Dad. Now I had to do something different. Do what Mama wouldn’t do. I had to lean away from romance and love to save all of us.

  I swallowed hard and started to pace. Two hours had passed since I’d hung up on my videocall with Dad. I still hadn’t made it out of my cabin yet. My sniffles had subsided and the tears had slowed, but more were building up behind my eyes. Their pounding pressure threatened my composure.

  Thankfully, no one here cared when I showed up to work, or how. Mark trusted me implicitly, which bought me some time to slowly get ready and to try not to think about Dad. Mama. And what all these revelations meant for me and JJ.

  When a knock came on my door, my stomach caught painfully. I trudged over to answer it in fuzzy slippers, too-large sweats, and an old T-shirt of Bethany’s. JJ waited outside, a bright expression on his face. He smiled so warmly.

  “Hey,” he said as he stepped inside. He shut the door behind him, then crossed the room in two steps. He touched my face with his fingertips and pulled me close. Our bodies molded against each other.

  Breathless, I barely managed to whisper, “Hey.”

  He pulled away and cupped my face in his hands. The warmth of his breath caressed my cheek. For a moment, he just studied me. Then he smiled slowly again. His thumb rubbed my cheekbone in a gentle caress. My heart cracked. The sheer romance of it would have broken me if my resolve to save both of us wasn’t ironclad.

  “It’s good to see you,” he said.

  My voice cracked. “You too.”

  Lines formed between his brows. “Everything all right?”

  “Yeah.” I stepped away and gestured around the cabin so I didn’t have to look right at him. “Just having a lazy day, I guess.”