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Sunshine turned the newly fallen snow into diamonds, and the last person I expected to see tramped through the snowy parking lot.
Dad was making his way to my door, and I couldn’t tell if this was going to be a pleasant reunion or not.
THIRTY-TWO
ella
I hadn’t seenhim in so long.
Dad’s thinning hair was graying more along his temples than it had been the last time, which was months ago. He wore glasses and his open coat showed that he wore a sweater over a collared shirt.
He was as handsome as I’d remembered, though. Not for the first time, I figured his looks must have been what had drawn Stina to him.
“Dad? What are you doing here?”
He cast his eyes over my coat and boots.
“Are you going somewhere?” he said, his voice the same mellow tenor I remembered.
“I—I was going job hunting.”
He bobbed his head. His breath escaped his mouth in cold smoke. “I don’t want to stop you—I can come back another time. It’s just—well, Stina told me what happened. I thought I’d stop by and see how you were.”
A week had passed since the accusation. What had taken him so long?
The thought rankled me just enough.
“So you care about me now that I’m a potential criminal?”
He gave a weak wince. “Be fair. You could have come for Christmas if you’d wanted to.”
“She would have shut the door in my face like she did before.”
“Stina did that?”
I’d only told him as much after it had first happened. Honestly, was he off in his own world where she was concerned? I’d intended on seeing if he might help me, but hearing as much now made me dubious.
Then again, maybe now, he’d finally listen to my side of the relationship with Stina. I wasn’t sure what story she’d been feeding him for years, but he’d clearly been taking her side.
Would he finally hear mine?
We faced one another in the cold morning, and thoughts warred within me. I wanted to tell him to leave. I wanted to invite him in.
“So how are you?” he asked.
He was here. He’d come to see me. I had to try.
I inhaled the cold air and gestured to the apartment I’d just left, turning to unlock the door and reenter.
“Come on inside,” I finally said over my shoulder.
I removed my coat as Dad kicked snow off his shoes. Taking his coat, I hung his and mine on the hooks just insidethe entryway. Without waiting for him or inviting him to follow, I made my way back to the living room.
Thanks to my efforts, our apartment looked better and more organized than it ever had before.
I rotated to face him. He stood beside my couch, looking over my unusually clean space. The Christmas cards that had been hanging since last year over the mantel had been scrapped.
The piles of clothes and newspapers that had taken over corners were now gone, leaving the corners of the room uncommonly vacant. I still wasn’t used to it, though admittedly, it did look nice.
