Page 60 of Vow

The realtor pushed off the stool with a nod. “I will try.”

That was the best she could ask for.

As the realtor made his way out of the club, Haven seriously considered cracking open one of her top-shelf whiskeys just to take a couple of shots to ease her edginess. It wasn’t like she needed to be in a mood once her workers started filtering in for their shift.

It was only the ringing of Haven’s phone that stopped her from moving behind the bar. She picked up the phone from where she’d tossed it away earlier, and didn’t bother to check the caller ID before answering.

“Haven here.”

“Hey, sweetheart.”

Haven wished she could say that at the sound of her father’s voice, all of her stress fled as fast as it had come. She couldn’t, though. Now, every single time her father called, she found herself on edge thinking that something might have happened to her mom.

It was constant.

It sucked.

“Hey, Dad,” Haven said, keeping her tone cheerful.

Or as much as she could manage.

“How’s Mom?”

“Good,” Neil said. “She had a good day. The treatment wasn’t easy today, but she didn’t get as sick afterward. And she wanted ice cream.”

Haven smiled.

That was good.

Usually, chemo left her mother unwilling to eat entirely. Sometimes, for days after. Sure, the doctors had her on meds that should increase her appetite, but Haven thought it was also a mental thing. No one could have much of a desire to shove food into their mouths when they knew the only thing that was going to happen soon after was the food coming back out … and not very pleasantly.

“That’s great,” Haven said. “Is she around? Let me talk to her.”

“She’s sleeping right now,” her father said.

Damn.

“Well, don’t wake her up. Let her rest.”

God knew her mother needed it.

“How’s things that way?” Neil asked. “The club doing well?”

“Of course. The realtor was just here. We were going over—”

Her father made a harsh sound on the other end of the line. Fuck. Haven shouldn’t even have brought the realtor up, really. She knew better.

“I wish you wouldn’t sell the club,” her father said quietly. “You worked so hard to save that place after everything, and you shouldn’t just give it up. You know your mother and I will be fine—we want you to live your life, Haven. This is your life.”

“And you’re a part of that,” Haven returned easily. This was the same conversation they had been having for months. Nothing about it had changed. Her parents wanted one thing, but she knew that she had to do another. It was as simple as that. “You and Mom are a big part of my life, and every reason why I took over this club to begin with. And now, things have changed again. I should be where I can be most useful to you and her, but I don’t think that’s here, Dad.”

“You should be happy.”

Haven blinked.

She didn’t know how to tell her father the truth but … she hadn’t been happy for a long time. Sure, her mother’s cancer coming back hadn’t helped with that, but it was mostly everything else going on in her personal life that kept her down.

Her father didn’t need to know that.