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It’d been so hard not to go see Kanon and even harder not to respond to his text, but she was drawing a line with both of the men who were most important in her life. She needed more from each of them, and if they couldn’t give it, she was no longer going to lower her standards. “Kanon’s leaving town after Christmas. Why would he even bother to get involved?”
“Because he cares about you.”
“Not enough to stay,” she said flatly.
He came closer. “You never know what life has in store, Patience. If things don’t work out between you and Kanon, there will be someone else.”
Problem was she didn’t want anyone else. Something about him excited her, made her feel love and joy and happiness. But she didn’t say that. She could only hope her father would be right. “Thanks.”
“I’ve always tried to be a good dad,” he said. “I’m sorry if I’ve fallen short.”
Immediately melting, she got up to give him a hug. “You’ve been a really good dad. I know that, and I appreciate it. But I’m also glad that you’re willing to back off a bit and let me decide for myself how I want to live, even if it means I’ll make some mistakes.”
He held her tight. “We all make mistakes. That’s how we learn.”
“If you really feel that way, it’ll be so much easier for me to like myself, even if I’m not perfect,” she said when he released her.
“I can’t believe you don’t like yourself already,” he said.
“I’m getting there. It was nice of you to come over so…so we could talk. That helps.” She gave him a tentative smile. “Are you coming to Christmas dinner?”
“Of course. What time?”
“Three?”
“Sounds good.”
She gestured toward her small kitchen. “Are you hungry? Would you like me to make you something to eat?”
“That’d be nice,” he replied.
“Great. But…” She gave him a sheepish look. “I need to tell you one more thing about Christmas dinner.”
He tilted his head, obviously leery. “What is it?”
“Jack will be here, too.”
He grimaced.
“He’s not a bad person, Dad. As a matter of fact, he’s a very good man. It’s about time you two figured out how to get along. Now that he’s divorcing again, holidays would be so nice for Ari if we could share them as a family.”
“O-kay,” he said with a long-suffering exhale. “I’ll try. For you. And Ari.”
She laughed. “Thank you.”
He slid her soup to one side as he took her seat at the table, facing the TV, and picked up the remote. “Is it okay if I put on something?”
She knew it wouldn’t be a show she’d enjoy. He never felt he had to consider her or anyone else when it came to the TV; he was used to total control. But she could watch what she wanted after he left. That was one of the many benefits of having her own place. She was just happy he’d apologized to her; she was almost positive it was the very first time.
Baby steps, she thought, and chuckled to herself as she said, “Of course.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Christmas dawned with clear skies and uncharacteristic warmth. There’d been no new storms since before the festival, so the snow had melted, except in spots that were constantly shady. Kanon couldn’t help staring at those small, snowy patches beneath the large canopies of the trees in the cemetery, along with the headstones that jutted through the dead grass, as he rolled past in his truck. He and Kelsey had had breakfast together and exchanged gifts this morning. He’d given her a Lululemon gift card, so she’d gone online to order a bunch of new clothes, and she’d given him a new heavy-duty coat and gloves to prepare him for another stint in North Dakota. But when he imagined going back, it didn’t seem quite as appealing as it had when he’d simply been looking to flee. He’d been wrestling with doubts all along, but most especially after Jack’s visit.
He was on his way to the mini-mart to get some half-and-half for Kelsey, who needed it for the garlic mashed potatoes she was making for their Christmas dinner when, on impulse, he flipped his truck around and turned in beneath the iron arch that read Hard Luck Cemetery. He’d been ignoring the fact that his father and his stepmother were buried here, not far from the church on Montgomery Street. He hadn’t attended their funerals, was still angry with his father.
But the older he got the more futile that anger seemed to be. What was the point of carrying it around year after year? What if he did what Patience’s father preached and forgave his father?
