My father’s mouth curves a tick into a grin. “Something like that.”
He thanks the waiter for dropping off our drinks that we ordered on the way in. My brows furrow slightly on his choice of whiskey, considering it’s 11:50am, but then again, I ordered an IPA beer with a solid 9.57% alcohol.
He takes a long sip then sets the glass down and slides it off to the side. “How is she?”
Here we go. I haven’t even finished pouring my beer bottle into a chilled glass yet.
“Summer is doing well. Just focusing on Bo and returning to life in a healthy, natural way.”
He hums a sound. “That’s good. That’s good,” he repeats then taps his fingers on the tablecloth.
His mind is somewhere else. He’s my dad, and over the years I’ve been qualified to understand his body language.
My eyes dip down as I debate how to break the ice, but I decide to take a hammer to it. “Just say what you’ve been trying to.”
He smirks because he knows I’ve just read him like a book. “Your mom and I have different views on this situation.”
“Situation?”
“The fact that Zac wanted you to move in for a little bit. Your mother would like nothing more than for you to stay with Summer. It’s better than some other man stepping in.”
I sigh and slouch back into my seat. “What if she didn’t need a man at all? Why is everyone fixated on the idea that Summer needs a superhero?”
He snickers at me. “Because your brother had the grand idea. In truth, maybe it makes a little sense. But only for a temporary moment. You’ll be leaving Lake Spark eventually, even if you already are past the six-week deadline.”
“I’m staying.”
My father appears taken aback, as proven by a lack of quick response and his need for another sip of whiskey. “I hope that means you’ll be taking more interest in the Dizzy Duck.”
“Not more than now.”
“You’re going to find your own place and stick around to be an uncle?” he prods for further details.
Confidence overtakes me, and I roll my shoulders back. “That’s the right thing to do, and I want to. Bo is a cute little kid.”
My dad’s lips roll in as he contemplates. “You didn’t answer the moving-out part. So, let’s be clear. He’s Zac’s son and don’t you forget that.” His sharp tone has me narrowing down his thought path.
“I’m not moving out for now.”
He nods subtly, only half believing my statement. “You and I haven’t had the best of relationships in the past few years. It was your choice to create distance, and I can only imagine why. Now is as good a time as any to improve that, but I swear to the heavens that if you’re waltzing in only to disrespect his memory, then we have no hope.”
Leaning forward, I puff out a breath and rest my elbows on the table. “Cut to the chase. You don’t mean Bo.”
“Damn straight. Summer is vulnerable, and if you feel you need to take advantage of your late brother’s wife and should something be happening that goes beyond living together, then so help me, a bridge between us just broke.”
Anger swirls inside of me. Then again, what was I expecting? This isn’t surprising. Eventually, he’ll have to deal with it. There is no way they will break a relationship with Summer since that would entail not seeing their grandson.
Am I being selfish lately? Probably. But there is a reason. It will make sense. One day.
The waiter dropping off a breadbasket and a plate of butter shaped as a turkey doesn’t seem to defuse this conversation as this stare-off is no different to the times he informedme that I should put in more effort to visit when I was playing hockey. A damn contradiction in this very moment.
“Shouldn’t we just focus on tomorrow? It’s Bo’s first Thanksgiving and Mom’s first holiday without Zac.”
My father inhales a deep breath, taking a moment to calm himself. “You’re right.”
I have zero appetite right now. Plus, I’m wondering what Summer is facing at this very moment with my mom.
“Enjoy your lunch. It’s best you and I take a breather.” He nods at me, and my response is taking my knife and stabbing it straight through the butter turkey.
