“What about the La-Z-Boy you won?” I ask.
“That thing was getting old. It was time for something new,” he says.
“I once won a Cuisinart bread maker for winning a crossword puzzle contest,” Logan says, probably at the mention of the word “loaf.”
Dad’s eyes light up. “You brought a winner into the house,” he says, clapping Logan on the back. “Can you stay for this game? I’ve got money on the Giants making three touchdowns in the first half.”
“We actually don’t have much time,” I interject. My eyes dart over to the living room wall where a rustic hutch used to hold all of Grandma and Mom’s antique finds. Those are gone, too. “We need to get back to the city tonight. This isn’t a pop by for fun. I need to talk to you.” To Logan, I say, “I got this.”
Logan nods and squeezes my hand before slipping out the back door that leads down to the dock. From here, I can tell there are two missing boards on it. Next to it, though, is a shiny red boat.
“Another win?” I ask, dragging my eyes back to Dad.
“You want tomatoes?” Dad asks, ignoring my question.
“I’ll do it,” I say, grabbing a cutting board to slice tomatoes and onions. “So, Dad—”
“Let me guess,” he interjects. “You’re here to talk about the plan.”
“Yes. Yeah. That’s part of it,” I say, thinking through what I have rehearsed. A last-minute thought interjects. Maybe while I’m here, I can convince Dad to transfer the house into my name, so this doesn’t happen again. “We still have a little time. We do need to act fast, though.”
“We?” Dad says, raising his eyebrows. He adds two more patties to a platter.
“The house is under your name, so yes, we. I did the math. We owe—”
“What am I missing here?” Dad asks. “You’re still saying ‘we.’ ”
I resist the urge to audibly sigh. “If you let me finish, I’ll tell you.”
“Hazel, I don’t have the money right now for the payments.”
“But you put money on the game…” I say, pointing toward the TV with my knife.
“Well, yeah,” Dad says with a shrug. “If I win, then I’ll have money, but that isn’t the point. Even then, I still won’t have enough to cover it all.” He looks at me expectantly. “You do, though. I’m a little confused on why you’re dragging this out.” Dad peers over my head at the TV. “We’re up one touchdown, and I need to see how the rest plays out.”
“Dragging out…” And then it clicks. We’ve really been on different wavelengths this entire time. For our entire lives, really. “Oh. You know.”
Dad’s practically shaking with excitement. “My daughter wins the lottery and waits weeks to tell her old man. Don’t you know what a big deal this is for us?”
I slice down on the tomato a little too hard.
“I always knew one day our luck would turn,” he continues. “You were always on me about those tickets and yet look at you now.” He chuckles. “The irony! That was a hefty chunk of change, too.”
“What have you seen?” I ask.
“There were all those photos, Hazel. The disguises were very funny.”
“So you already knew who Logan was when we got here.”
“Well, he looks a little different now,” Dad jokes. “Thought it was all part of your big reveal.” He frowns. “What’s wrong? Has the money not come in yet? It should’ve—”
“It’s not that,” I say. “I just… I haven’t decided what to do with it yet.”
Dad cranes his neck toward me, his forehead crunching in confusion. He laughs through a smile. “Well, I wouldn’t mind an early Christmas gift,” he says, as if I were welcoming suggestions. “Raising you kids wasn’t cheap. Man, I had no idea until Jerry sent me that link—”
“Wait, Jerry told you? Jerry knows?”
“I guess he saw it on social media?”
