After breakfast Rosie helped her mother prepare a few dishes for Christmas lunch the following day, while Becky followed tradition and played Scrabble with her father. Will had excused himself to answer a call from the hospital about a complicated patient.
“So how’s my girl?” Her dad studied his tiles and then played his first word. “How’s the new job working out?”
If her mother had asked the question she might have prevaricated because she didn’t want to worry her, but she was always honest with her dad. “It’s not. It was a mistake.”
“Oh?” He lifted his gaze to hers. “Anything you want totalk about? Not that I know anything about your line of work of course, so I’m probably not much use to you.”
Something in his tone caught her attention. “You’re a lot of use, Dad.”
He toyed with one of his letters, staring at the board. “It’s okay to make a mistake, Becky. Knowing you, you’re beating yourself up about it, but it’s okay to get something wrong. And it’s okay to change your mind. That’s all part of life.”
“I should have known.”
“We don’t always know how we’re going to feel about something until it happens.” He carefully placed his letters on the highest scoring option. “Life requires constant readjustment.”
“That’s true.” She looked at him closely, wondering if he was talking about himself or her. “How’s retirement? It must feel strange being able to put yourself first for once. Nice for us, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“This is the first Christmas I can remember where you’ve been here for every meal and not rushing out to see someone in trouble. Also—” she placed her letters around his, her choice of word making him groan “—this is the first game of Scrabble that hasn’t been interrupted. It’s nice. Although I still maintain that you were using patients as an excuse because you knew that if you stayed, I’d beat you.”
He frowned at his letters, concentrating. “I have horrible letters. Horrible. You probably will beat me. And yes, it is nice, although I’m still getting used to the slower pace of things.”
She waited while he made his move, wincing at his high score. “So much for horrible letters. Are you and Mum going to travel? What are your plans?”
“We haven’t made any yet. I need to do that. It has taken me a while to adjust.”
“Well, as you’re always telling me, that’s okay. It’s exciting. Great opportunity to do something new, that isn’tmedicine. You could do anything. Learn cross-country skiing. Go on a cookery course in Tuscany. Do a computer programming course.” She scanned her letters, determined to outdo him.
“I suppose I could. First, I’m going to help Grandad write his book.”
“That’s good. We could get you both on social media. Two Wise Doctors, or something.”
“Mm. Not sure I want to do that. You’d want me to dance or something.”
“Dancing is good exercise.” She put down her letters and he groaned.
“Quixoticon a triple word score? Becky!”
“I know. I’m heartless.”
“I wouldn’t describe you that way.” He stared at his letters dolefully. “So—you and Will.”
Oh no. Her dad never asked about her love life but today it seemed he was breaking with tradition for some reason. “Yeah.”
“Audrey and your mother got a little overexcited at the party last night.”
“Just a little.”
“I expect that felt like pressure.” He glanced at her. “Ignore them, Becky. You do what feels right for you.”
She felt her throat swell with emotion. He wasn’t interfering. He was telling her not to let anyone else interfere. “Thanks, Dad.”
“I mean it. You don’t make a decision to keep other people happy, Becky. And whatever you decide is good with us. We’re always here for you, you know that.”
She felt a heavy pressure in her chest. Where would she be without her family? She loved them so much, but she never said so. She wasn’t like Rosie. Did they know?
“Dad—I—”
