Chapter Thirty-Eight
Oh My Stars
“Oh, my stars.”
I smile at Mom’s reaction.
“I’ll be damned.”
I laugh at Dad’s.
Sam and I stand back as the pair walk in the direction of the large windows overlooking Stone Lake. It’s the first thing I did, too.
The two of them take turns complimenting the house, saying things like “amazing view” and “lovely kitchen.” Throughout the entire tour, Sam explains to them how I’d chosen all the finishes, from the flooring to the paint colors.
“I had no idea you were an interior designer.” Mom makes the statement, and I believe she means it.
“It was fun. I loved every minute of it.”
“I would have picked the same backsplash,” Connie says, touching the smooth finish.
“I love the idea of having the island a different color,” Candy says with a smile. “Maybe I should redo my kitchen.”
“Again?” grumbles Carla. “You should just sell that monstrosity and move into something smaller.”
“I love my house,” Candy grouses.
“It’s just you in there.” Carla isn’t letting this go.
“Don’t remind me.”
“I am reminding you. Maybe now it’s time for us to nagyouabout moving.”
Okay. I’m not going there. “Come on. Let me show you the main bathroom.” As we walk through the living room, I add, “We’ve got the rest of the furniture on order, and yesterday they delivered the appliances and the large sectional sofa for the living space.”
“Looks comfy.” Dad makes a beeline for the couch.
“Make yourself at home, Steve.” Sam chuckles.
“May I?” Dad asks, holding up a remote that was sitting on the table.
“Knock yourself out.” Dad pressed the power button except the TV doesn’t turn on, the fireplace does.
“Here.” I hand him the one for the TV. “That’s the fireplace remote.”
“Well, that’s nifty.”
Nifty.
I love that word.
I love my dad.
Having him here, hell, all of them, well, it makes me smile. And giggle.
Sam stands up from the sofa. “Let me grab that board thing from the truck. I’ve also got chicken to grill. How does that sound?” He looks over at Candy who nods and smiles. I feel relief hum through my body. I didn’t realize I was tense.
“Grill?” My father perks up. “I’d love to—”
