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“I hired her,” he shares.
It takes me a minute to clue in.
“On the spot. Carlos recommended her, so who am I to argue?” he continues. “Her references checked out, the woman needs a new start, and I’m pretty sure your mother would’ve approved of her.”
Carlos Garza rules the kitchen at the diner and occasionally joins Pops and his poker buddies on Thursday night. He wouldn’t steer Pops wrong. I’m relieved my father took his advice and feel a little more pressure come off my shoulders.
“That’s great,” I observe.
But Pops isn’t done yet.
“She walked into your mother’s kitchen, put on her apron, and went to work.” He blows out a deep sigh. “I had to get out of there.”
Ahh. His ornery mood makes a lot more sense now.
Instead of lecturing him on his behavior, I slip my arm through his and shoot him a breezy smile.
“Well, since you’re here, how about the grand tour?”
He does little more than grunt and nod as I take him through the house, sharing some of the developing ideas I have around fixing it up. Afterward, we sit on the porch with a glass of iced tea, and I notice Pops still hasn’t really said a word.
Eager for his feedback, I prompt, “So? What do you think?”
“Yeah, nice, but it sure seems like a lot of work.”
“I know, but that’s the fun part; I get to do it all myself exactly the way I want it.”
He huffs.
“I mean it, Pops, that’s the part I actually look forward to.”
“Wouldn’t be my idea of a good time,” he grumbles. “But if this is what you want…”
“It is.”
“Well, okay. But was it necessary to move in already? You’re way out here by yourself.”
“I’m a grown woman, Pops. You don’t have to worry, I’ll be fine.”
“Still,” he persists. “I’d feel a whole lot better if you had some security out here.”
Spoken like a true father.
My defensiveness melts a little. Can hardly fault a man for wanting to look after his only daughter.
“I’ll add it to my list, Pops. I promise I’ll look into it.”
He shakes his head as he pushes up from his chair. “Not down the line sometime, Baby Girl. Now. I’m calling Battaglia as soon as I get back to the pub. I’ll be taking care of this. You can give your old man that much.”
I press my lips together, holding back my objections, because he’s right; I can give him that.
Instead, I give him a sharp nod as I stand as well. “Okay then, Pops. It’s all yours.”
He gives me one of his rare, but comfortably familiar bear hugs before he takes off.
Even more determined to make this place into a home, I return to getting my stuff sorted inside.
As I work, my thoughts drift from my father to Rick, and the way he jumped to my defense. But not only that, he was pretty straight in laying out his intentions toward me. If I had any lingering doubts about the man, they’re gone now.
