Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 63563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63563 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
I enter the living room and find Ash picking up pieces of a lamp while my dad stands sheepishly beside him. “It was an accident,” Dad mutters at my stupefied expression. “I got out of the chair, tripped on the cord, and pulled it off the end table.”
“How did it smash on…on carpet?” The carpet is so dang plush that I think it would cushion someone from a fall of ten feet, and they’d come out of it without a scratch.
“Well, it hit the end table first, on its side, which is what caused the damage.”
Ash puts the pieces back onto the wood table. “I think I got it all.”
I look between them both. “Are you…are you going with him?” Dad’s up. He’s out of his chair. If he’s not throwing things, then it must be a good sign. Actually, when I look at this face, I see something I haven’t seen there in years, and my heart flutters wildly. Determination. That’s what it is.
“Yes, honey, I’m going.”
I let out a huge sigh of relief. Gratitude and hope also swirl around through me in a big soup pot of tenderness that makes me want to break down and turn into a big bawl bag right there on the seventies shag carpet.
I step out of the way, nodding fiercely as my eyes tear up and my throat gets wedged shut with emotion.
“We’ll be back in a couple of hours,” Ash says as he follows my dad to the door. I nod, still not trusting myself to say anything since it might cue up a fountain of tears I can’t put a cork back on. “Will you be here?”
I nod. “Yeah,” I croak. “I’ll do some cleaning until you get back.” I turn to my dad. There are years worth of unspoken things I need to tell him, but I settle for two words that seem to encompass it all. “Thank you.”
CHAPTER 12
Ash
It should be kind of weird and strained to be in a car with someone’s dad who I barely know, and even that someone, meaning Ellis, I also can’t say I know much better, but oddly, the silence isn’t strained. The therapist I’m taking Ellis’ dad—good heavens, we’re not even on a first-name basis here—to see is a lady in her early seventies. She’s been through it all as far as the field goes. She has a PhD, but she is still constantly doing case studies and research. She’s taught at colleges, written more books than I can count, and done the whole office thing with clients as well. Now she works out of her house since she’s semi-retired. She charges a fortune, but she’s worth it.
I trust her because this is the same lady my mom saw for years after my dad left, and she really helped my mom get things back on track. It was a rough time for my mom because the divorce was brutal. I don’t think she would have done as well as she did if she didn’t have some good solid advice behind her. Penny Andrews was more than just a therapist. She was a friend too.
I called her late last night after my talk with Ellis. I had a list of a few other possibilities if Penny couldn’t or wouldn’t take Ellis’ dad on short notice. I did offer to pay extra, but Penny told me it wasn’t necessary or ethical to do so. She assured me she’d make room for a late appointment.
Ellis’ dad shifts in the passenger seat, but he doesn’t tell me he wants to bail, which is good because her office is still about twenty minutes away.
However, he does clear his throat in a dry, scratchy sort of way that makes me wish I’d had the foresight to bring some water. I feel a little parched myself. It must be the anxiety.
“How do you know my daughter?” Ellis’ dad asks. “She said you’re a friend, but she’s never said anything about a good-looking male person being in her life before.”
“If I wasn’t a good-looking male person, would it make a difference?”
“You know it would, and don’t give me a lecture on double standards.”
“I won’t.” I glide through traffic easily. It’s after lunch time, so it’s not as heavy as it would have been one hour ago. “I…if I told you how I knew her, you wouldn’t believe me.”
“That’s a horrifying thing for a father to hear…” he trails off and looks out the window. “But I guess I haven’t been much of a father lately, as you can see.”
“Actually, I think you’re doing the best you can under the circumstances, which I don’t fully know, and I won’t presume I do, so I won’t tell you how you should be acting or not acting. But I can see you love Ellis and want to protect her. When my dad left, he went to another country, pretended I didn’t exist, cheated on my mom like a mad rabbit with the insane need to reproduce like it’s his last day on earth, minus the reproduction part, because my father never really liked kids anyway, but you get it. Anyway, that’s bad parenting. Not what you’re doing.”