I watch as the white in her eyes gets bigger and bigger. “What?” she says in disbelief.
“Are you serious?” Cailin jumps off the stool and runs to me.
I pick her up and swing her around too.
“Yes, I’m serious. Whoever doesn’t know us now will by the time December comes around.”
Sarah turns back to the stove and is unusually quiet.
I put Cailin down and walk up behind her, placing my hands around her waist and my head on her shoulder. “You’re excited, aren’t you?”
She inhales and nods her head while she stirs the onions.
“How come I don’t believe you?”
Her shoulders sag when she realizes I’m not buying the front she’s putting on.
She sighs and steps away from me to the refrigerator. “At least now, I don’t have to worry about not being with my family on Thanksgiving.”
Her words are a knife to my gut. I didn’t think about the upcoming holiday. I’ve always either been on the road or at Linda’s house. Thanksgiving wasn’t exactly a tradition for me until Linda, so I’ve never thought twice about the holiday. Hearing she is worried about her family does something I don’t like to my stomach.
She hasn’t spoken about her father since their fight. I know her mom took over her class, so I guess I just figured everything had smoothed over. With how busy we’ve been, I feel bad for not checking with her sooner.
I know she cares for her family, and I don’t want to be the reason they’re not talking. “I told you I’d make it right. And I’ll keep my promise.”
When her eyes meet mine, I see the trepidation. A quick nod is all I get as she heads to the counter.
* * *
Once all the plans are finalized for our performance, I set Sarah up with a spa day to help her relax and get pampered. I told her I was going shopping. It’s the truth, but while I’m out, I’m also going to talk to her father.
Her mom and sister are already set to join us for the concert, and all I’ve been told is that her father isn’t going to come.
This is definitely a situation I never thought I’d have to deal with, but here I go, heading to talk to the father of the girl I love and ready to fight for what’s right.
I open the door of the church office to see an older lady with a pink sweater pulled over her shoulders, typing away at a computer.
I don’t miss the way the woman’s eyes widen as she looks me up and down. “May I help you?” she asks.
“I’m here to see Pastor Russo,” I say, standing tall.
“Is he expecting you?”
“I’m sure in some way he is but not at this moment, no.”
She stands. “Let me see if he’s available.”
A few minutes later, a tall man with graying hair and a small gut steps out of the back room. He removes his glasses to glare at me. With pursed lips, he stares without saying a word.
I step forward with my hand outstretched in greeting. “Mr. Russo. It’s nice to meet you. I’m—”
“I know exactly who you are. What I don’t know is why you’re here.”
I pull my hand back to my side and square my shoulders. “Sir, I’d like to have a few words with you.”
“I don’t believe I have anything to say to you.”
“Please, I’m coming to you as a father myself. My daughter, Cailin, performed for your church with Sarah a few months ago. I’m only asking for a minute of your time.”
