“Erma, do you need me for anything else?” she’d said.
Erma put her hands on her hips, her bright-purple wig askew, making the pigtails uneven. Somehow it worked on her. “No, we can handle things from here. Thanks for your help. Did I tell you you’re a peach?”
Everyone was a peach to Erma, except maybe Jasper Mathis. “Yes, but I like hearing it.” She slipped off her wig and handed it to Erma.
“Oh, you keep it, dear. We have plenty here.”
“Uh, thanks.” As Erma went inside, Harper turned in time to see a small girl climb into Rusty’s lap and snuggle against him. Even when she was dating Jack, marriage had been a distant thought, an event that might happen, but only when she reached all her business goals. Kids wereneveronher radar. She didn’t consider herself the motherly type. But seeing Rusty holding his niece filled her with warm awe. They looked so comfortable together. And when he gave her temple a tiny kiss . . . Harper melted inside.
“Hi, Harper.”
She spun around to see Pastor Jared standing behind her. He was around her age, but anyone could see he had an old soul. He was dressed casually in jeans, a black shirt, and a chocolate-brown jacket with anI love Jesuspin on the lapel.
“It’s good to see you,” he said, smiling. “We’ve missed you in church lately. Also on the softball team this past summer. We could have used you on second base again.”
Although his words were delivered in a kind tone, she felt guilty anyway. “I’m sorry,” she said. “Work has been crazy.”My whole life has.
“No need to apologize. Just wanted to let you know that you’re missed. See you soon.” He waved to her and headed down the sidewalk toward the café.
Harper looked at the wig in her hand. She missed attending church. Up until this past summer she’d been a faithful attendee.
She lifted her head and tried to find Rusty again, but he and his family had disappeared, and she didn’t see them for the rest of the parade. When she went home, she tried to psych herself up to do some work, but she never made it past the kitchen.
Aboomof thunder made her jump, and she rose from the couch and padded to the kitchen. She poured herself a glass of milk, then squirted at least half a bottle of chocolate syrup into it. Not bothering to get a spoon, she swirledthe glass a few times and took a big gulp. Then another, and another, until the milk was gone and all that remained in the bottom was the syrup. She drank that too. For a hot minute she felt better, then her stomach lurched.I shouldn’t have done that.Just like she shouldn’t have spent all day yesterday baking. Her marble island countertop was covered with plates and platters of calorie-laden treats—chocolate-chip cookies, pumpkin-spiced muffins, apple strudel, Parker House rolls, and cherry-topped cheesecake. What was she going to do with all this food?
The doorbell rang, and she froze, then glanced at her two-day-old attire and cringed. It was one thing for her to be dressed down, another for her to abandon hygiene completely. Hopefully whoever was at the door was just a delivery driver dropping off a package. She hadn’t ordered anything lately, but sometimes they left her neighbor’s packages on her doorstep by accident. Just in case, she went to check. If it was a package, she needed to bring it inside before the rain soaked through the cardboard.
But when she opened the door, her father was standing on her front stoop.
“Dad?”
“Hi.” His hands were shoved into his windbreaker pockets, and his longish hair was plastered to the side of his head, even though his jacket had a hood. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” She took a step back and let him inside, noticing his almost full, shaggy gray beard that reminded her a little of Rusty’s. Everything seemed to remind her of him. Whatever the case, it dawned on her that she’d never seen her father this unkempt before. The Wilson family wasalways well dressed. Except for today. “Is everything all right?” she asked, closing the door behind him.
He turned and faced her, his eyes bleary. “No, sweetheart. It’s not.”
Harper’s heart melted a bit at the endearment. Don didn’t dole out affectionate words too often. “Give me your jacket,” she said, holding out her hand. “I’ll make us some coffee. Do you want some cookies? Pumpkin bread? Cheesecake?”
“No, thanks,” he said, his brow lifting at the sight of her counter. “Bake sale?”
She shook her head. “Bad day.”
He nodded. “Gotcha. Been having a lot of those myself lately.”
When they were settled in the living room, her dad in an armchair directly across from her, Harper said, “Is this about Mom? The divorce?”
He nodded. His coffee remained on the clear glass and metal coffee table in the middle of the room. “I’ve lost her, Harper,” he said, staring down at his bare feet, showing he hadn’t taken the time to bother with socks. “I’ve really lost her this time.”
“This time?”
He lifted his eyes. “You know more than anyone how rocky our relationship has always been.” His shoulders drooped. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
“It’s okay—”
“No. It’s not.” He scrubbed his hands over his cheeks. “I’m sorry about a lot of things. Like not being there for you when you were growing up.”
Or ever.She kept that to herself and took a sip of thecoffee, then blanched and set it on the table near his. Never again was she going to ingest that much sugar at once. “Thanks, Dad,” she said, acknowledging his words. She didn’t know if the apology would change anything, but he was trying. “Why are you here?”
