Page 43 of If I Didn’t Have You

Indecision warred on his face for a moment. “I haven’t had a good homemade meal in a long time.”

“You’re welcome anytime. Dinner’s at six. You know the way?”

He grunted in acknowledgment, but the wariness in his eyes returned. “You’re just trying to butter me up.”

“Maybe, but I doubt that a man like you would be swayed by a simple homemade meal. You’re too smart for something like that.”

A grin threatened to pull at his lips, but he somehow held back. “I’ll see you at six.”

“See you then.”

The man didn’t know what he was in for. I was no simple housewife. I’d spent all my life cooking for a family of hungry men, and my girls could bake with the best of them. By the time I was done with dinner and had it on the table, the man wouldn’t know what hit him. And once he tasted my apple pie, he’d be a goner.

I sent out an emergency S.O.S. to my girls, telling them to meet me at the house in two hours. We had a lot of cooking to get to, and one stubborn man to impress. And when I was through with him, he’d never question our need for the gym again.

Sweaty as I was, I ran to the General Store, giving John a wave as I walked through the doors. Unlike everyone else in the Parker clan, I wasn’t very inclined to write off the whole Callahan family because of one bad seed. Even if Austin did try to kill me, I could never believe that John would condone that behavior.

After hustling through the store for a feast that would rival Thanksgiving, I was finally ready to check out. As I approached the counter, chipper and ready to take on the boxing grump, I wasn’t prepared for John to walk around the counter and hug me.

“Oh,” I laughed, patting him on the back. “How are you, John?”

“I should be asking you that,” he whispered, his voice cracking. Stepping back, he smiled sadly at me. “Are you doing okay? You look fantastic.”

“Well, a little sweaty. Some of the ladies and I have been working out at the gym.”

“That’s good. And…”

I knew this would grate on John until the day he died. Yes, he was angry after what happened to Clay, but he was a good man, and the fact that his other son so callously tried to kill me, hurt him more than anyone could see.

But I understood. For the longest time, I’d seen John’s anger tear him apart, and I tried to help, but the rift between our families was too strong. Now, he was just trying to survive.

“John, I’m fine. I promise. And you have nothing to be sorry for. You are not responsible for what your son did.”

He frowned, the deep lines around his mouth sinking into his skin, showing his age. If anything, he looked ten years older than he should.

“I just—” He stepped back, running his hand over his mouth as he sucked in a deep breath. Tears glimmered in his eyes that he quickly tried to blink away. “I’m so sorry for all the years of fighting. None of it should have ever happened.”

His eyes slowly met mine, filled with remorse for a lifetime of anger that tore our families apart.

“Hey, it’s water under the bridge. What’s in the past should stay in the past. Now, I have a big dinner tonight. I’m trying to convince Sam’s coach to let us continue using the gym, and I’m going to do it with beef.”

“Well, we’d better get you on the road, then.”

He smiled tightly, but for the first time in years, he looked lighter than he had. Repairing the damage between our two families wouldn’t come easily, but in time, we might learn to get along again.

But after John helped me load the groceries in the car, I remembered that Austin would only be in prison for a year. And when that year was up, John would still have to deal with his son. I didn’t know what would happen then, but one thing was certain—John had always been loyal to family, and when his son got out of prison, he would try to help him get back on his feet.

What that meant for the rest of us, I still didn’t know, and to be honest, it was something I didn’t want to think about.

The table was laden with food, filling every spare space with the multitude of meats and sides I had made. I might have gone overboard.

Hell, as I looked for a place to set the plates, I realized this was way too much food. But there would be a feast, and I would win Deke over if it was the last thing I did.

“Um, Mom, where are we gonna eat?” Krista asked.

“I still haven’t figured that out. Maybe we can set up some tables in the living room.”

“The living room is filled with sawdust,” Lizzy pointed out. “Do you really want to eat in the construction area?”