Page 125 of Wag More Bark Less

“Is that so?” Dad posted both hands on his hips and stared me down. Which was impressive considering I had five inches on him. “You’re biting the heads off everyone who gets near you. This is worse than when Raquel left.”

“Can we just get this damn inventory over with?”

“So you can what? Not go home?” Dad set his clipboard on a stack of boxes I’d yet to unpack.

I gripped my clipboard tighter.

“You think I don’t know what this is?” Dad pressed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“When your mom died⁠—”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Tough shit. I’ve tiptoed around your mother’s death for you for three years. I’m done. If I want to talk about my wife, I will.”

His admission gave me pause. Did I shut him down when he tried to talk about Mom? When I stopped to think about it, I could easily recall half a dozen examples that backed him up. Which meant there were many more. Fuck, I didn’t realize how harsh I’d been.

“I thought I was helping you.”

“That’s your problem, Luke. You think you know what’s best for everyone. But you never ask.” Dad pulled a five-gallon bucket off the shelf, turning it upside down and sitting on it. “If you think it’s not hard to go home and not see your mother everywhere just because it’s been three years, you’re wrong.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Don’t play stupid, son. You’re better than that.”

Because he’d seen right through me, I gave up the fight and pulled a bucket of my own from the shelf to sit on. Maybe it was time I kept my mouth shut and started listening.

“I miss her every damn day. I’d give anything to have her back. Don’t think I don’t blame myself for not going to Denver with her that weekend. Maybe she’d still be here. Maybe we’d both be gone.”

“It was supposed to be me.”

“She asked me first,” Dad said, and that shut me up. “I saw the way you looked at Maggie. I recognized the way she brought you to life, because that’s how Brenda was for me. It’s been hell living without her.”

Dad pinched his lips tight, his eyes suddenly shiny as he stared at the floor. The only time I’d ever seen him cry was at her funeral. But now I wondered how much pain he hid from us kids. How much pain I dismissed simply because I thought not talking about Mom was what he needed.

“Maggie’s still here, son.”

“She’s not coming back.”

“Did you ask her to?”

“We had an understanding⁠—”

“Bullshit. You two thought you could keep things casual, but went and fell in love. And before you deny it, the whole damn town watched it happen. The only thing I don’t understand is why you didn’t tell her how you feel.”

“How do you know I haven’t?”

“Because, despite how much you might look like your mother, you definitely inherited my idiotic stubbornness. I’d bet the store you let her leave without telling her you wanted her to come back.” Dad stared at me hard. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

I couldn’t.

“By not speaking up, you made her choice for her.”

“I didn’t⁠—”

The bells chimed overhead, and Dad popped to his feet. “Mayor Chambers, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”