“Sure, I’ll be at reception when you’re ready.”
Cassie sat on the bed and reached for her dad’s hand. “It’s going to be okay. I’ll be here all the time, and if you don’t like the food I’ll sue them.”
That got a smile out of him, which she took as a hopeful sign. “Actually, I’ve heard the food here is pretty good, and you’ve got a fridge for snacks.”
“How will I get to the store?”
“They have a van, or I can bring over a few things. Or we can go together if you want.”
“What about my bee stuff?”
“Um, your bee stuff?” They’d discussed the bees; surely he understood the bees would not be coming.
“You know, my veil and such.”
“Daddy, there’s no place for the bees here.” She glanced out the window, which had a nondescript view of the back lawn. A sidewalk ran along a border planted with regulation impatiens and petunias. Beyond that, a stretch of grass gave way to a box hedge and some carefully tended trees. The lawn was probably mowed and clipped weekly. Nothing riotous. No bees in sight.
“What do you mean there’s no place for them?” He sounded like this was the first he’d heard of it. “Where will they go?”
“I’m going to find someone who’ll take them.” She hadn’t quite figured that out yet. The thought of looking for a beekeeper left her with a lingering lethargy, like a flu she couldn’t quite shake. Two months since she’d seen Glenn and she still ached with regret. Still glanced at every white pickup that drove past.
Her dad crossed his arms.
“We talked about this,” she said. “Remember?”
“We never talked about it.”
She sighed. Nose to nose confrontation never worked with him. After all these years, she’d finally learned that. “I’ll call the Arboretum. I bet they know someone.”
“I want that fellow, what’s his name…”
Her stomach cinched. “Oh no. Glenn can’t possibly take them. He has too many bees already.”
“I like him. He knows what he’s doing.”
She felt a tingle of panic. How could she call Glenn? He definitely would not want to hear from her, not after she’d sent him packing. Calling Glenn was not an option. “I’m sure lotsof other beekeepers know what they’re doing. I’ll find someone good, I promise.”
Her dad was beginning to look agitated, his face going blotchy. “He’s the one I want. I trust him.”
She thought of how the house was being emptied. Furniture sold, the china boxed up. Her father’s world shrinking around him. He was being made to leave the house he knew and loved and start over in two rooms with a mini fridge. The facility was a perfectly suitable place that could provide the care he needed. But it wasn’t home.
Her father wanted to get up, so she helped him out of the chair. Deep chairs were tough; his wing chair would be better. She would be sure to bring it over. Her stomach churned unhappily at the thought of calling Glenn. He’d humbled himself and asked for another chance and she’d said no, hurt and exhausted by his silence. With everything going on in her life, it had all been too much.
She squeezed her dad’s hand as they started down the hall. Leo ambled by, sniffing her leg briefly, and she stroked his soft back. What did her own discomfort matter? Yes, it would be awkward to call Glenn, but this was her dad they were talking about. He might forget the day of the week or whether he’d agreed to a tour of Riverside Gardens, but he hadn’t forgotten about his bees. And he knew who he wanted to take care of them.
She had to at least try.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Cassie’s heart ticked up as she pulled into Glenn’s driveway. Maybe this was a bad idea after all. She’d promised her father she would try, but Glenn would not be happy to see her. She’d debated whether to call or stop by, but he might not even listen to a message. The thought hollowed her out, that he might just delete it. But what did she expect? She’d made it clear it was over.
The days were noticeably shorter now. Still sticky with August, but at seven-thirty dusk had already settled in, the sky pinking over the ridge. She’d forgotten how lovely his place was—the hives and wetland beyond it, already deepening with evening.
She parked the car, her stomach wound tight. Glenn’s truck was here so that meant he was home. For half a second she thought of turning around and high tailing it back the way she came. She could make some excuse to her dad, tell him it wouldn’t work. But too late. Charlie had run to the fence wagging and barking.
“Charlie!” Glenn’s sharp call from the deck. He hadn’t seen her yet since she was hidden by the big rhododendron at the top of the driveway. She waited, her stomach in free fall. Glenn came around the side of the house and stopped. He was wearinga pair of jeans with holes at the knees and a rumpled t-shirt. His hair was tousled like he might have been lying on the couch. Her heart leapt at the sight of him.
“Hi,” she said as she stepped from the car.
