“I don’t believe you.” Lilah was crying now. “You never want me to see her, you don’t want me to be happy. You don’t want me to doanything.”
“Oh peanut.Of courseI want you to be happy. That’s all I ever want.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. It flat out killed him when she cried. “Look, I have to get the bees loaded. Can we talk about this later?”
“Don’t call me peanut!” She jumped out, slamming the door so hard it shook his two-ton truck. “Have fun with your girlfriend! Letherhelp you.” She stormed off across the grass,then spun dramatically. “I’m going to Colorado. It’s not up to you!”
He heaved himself out of the truck. “That’s about enough, young lady.” How did she do this to him? Two seconds ago he’d felt terrible, and now he was on the verge of losing his temper. He didn’t want to lose his temper. But this was outrageous. One phone call with Sophie and Lilah was spouting attitude. True, he hadn’t helped the situation, but where did his twelve-year-old daughter get off talking to him like this?
“First of all,” he said, closing the gap between them, “let me remind you thatyoudon’t tellmewhat you will or won’t do. Last time I checked, I’m the adult here and I make the decisions. I’ll decide if you go to Colorado, and right now it isn’t looking good.”
For a moment she looked like she might cry again, then she drew herself up. God she was channeling Sophie. She even had her hands on her hips, which would have been laughable if he hadn’t been so pissed. “You don’t get to decide everything! Mom’s an adult too in case you haven’t noticed.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” he said through gritted teeth. And then, because he couldn’t bear for the evening to flame out this way, he mumbled, “I’d still like for you to come.”
“No way.” She marched off, hair swinging, and clumped up the porch stairs in her work boots—a pair just like his own. He had no doubt she would have slammed the door, but sliders didn’t slam in a satisfying way. She left it wide open instead, which she knew drove him crazy.
His whole body deflated like he’d suffered a puncture. How had this happened? He hardly ever fought with Lilah. It made him physically sick.
He climbed into the truck and slumped in the driver’s seat. Charlie shoved his head forward, and Glenn stroked the soft fur on his neck while the dog assailed him with his meaty breath.
He sighed and patted the passenger seat. “All right, come on up.”
Charlie clambered up front, drooling on the console as he went, astounded at his good fortune. Normally Glenn would have wiped it off. With his sleeve, at least. But he didn’t bother.
Dog slobber was the least of his problems.
Chapter Eighteen
Cassie was all set for the field trip. She’d arrived at Glenn’s house decked out in a new veil since Glenn had sliced open the old one to get at that rogue bee—she still shuddered to think of it crawling up her father’s face—and she was wearing her dad’s bee suit, which was way too big and looked ridiculous. But she believed in protection. She’d even duct taped the ankles of her pants. No bees were getting in that way!
But now Glenn was in a crummy mood. Hardly speaking at all. All he’d said was that Lilah had gone to a friend’s house and wasn’t coming. She could see his tension in the set of his shoulders. The uncompromising line of his mouth.
“What’s going on?” Cassie asked once they were underway, the hives strapped down in the truck bed like excess luggage.
“I don’t want to get into it.”
“Did something happen with her mom?”
He only shrugged irritably.
No one could make you miserable like your own child, that was for sure. Something had clearly blown up with Lilah, and what was supposed to have been a chance for the three of them to spend time together had become a strained, silent trip with Glenn, who’d reverted to the uncommunicative stranger she’d met six weeks ago.
“Whatever it is,” she said, “you’ll feel better getting it off your chest. It doesn’t do any good to let things fester.”
He sent her a dour look. “I’m not festering.”
“If you say so.” It was almost dark now, the traffic on I-95 lurching along in fits and starts. The bee suit chafed over her jeans. “Is your ex coming again? Is that it?” Maybe the woman had taken one look at Glenn and decided she’d made a mistake after all. Why else would she be back so soon?
His jaw tightened. “Will you please let it go.”
Okay, so maybe not the ex. But she felt a rising annoyance. She’d ducked out of work early for this, made sure Andrew was home to give his grandfather dinner. And now she couldn’t pry a word out of the man’s mouth. “You know what,” she said, “why don’t you take me home. You obviously have a lot on your mind. If you don’t want to talk, that’s okay, but I don’t need to sit here if you’re in a foul mood.”
He looked taken aback. “We’re already in Westport. I can’t turn around now, the guy’s waiting for me. I have to get the bees unloaded. It’ll be another hour and a half if we go back.”
“So I’m a hostage?”
He closed his eyes for a brief second. “Please. I can’t deal with any more drama tonight. Let’s just get there and get this done.”
“Fine.” She looked out the window at a semi churning past. The wheels had those awful spikes that could shred your tires. It wasn’t fine, nothing about this evening was fine, but she couldn’t make him turn around with a truckload of bees. She was annoyed, not heartless.
