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“Shit,” she muttered, though her frown soon turned into a smile at the sight of her fathe
r, already up and dressed. He looked good.
Her smile widened. He looked better than good.
“Doing what?” she asked, grabbing the cloth from the sink and dabbing at her arm.
Her father paused for a moment before answering, his faded eyes softening as he crossed the room. Freshly shaven, he smelled of tangy aftershave, and his hair was combed. The heaviness inside her dissipated as she gazed into his eyes and the warmth in her heart spread out. She knew these moments of clarity, of seemingly good health were getting rarer, but she was grateful—
“Are you worried about the wedding?”
What?
The wedding. Right.
Her heart sank and though she tried, her smile wavered. Travis Barker pulled her into a hug and she fought the tears that threatened to spill as his large hand stroked her hair.
“No, Daddy,” she managed to say. He was confused again. “Gerald and I,” she sniffled and pulled out of his embrace so that she could gaze directly into his eyes. “Gerald and I broke up,” she said gently. “Remember?”
For a moment he looked confused, but then he nodded slowly, glancing away as if embarrassed.
“I’m sorry honey. I…I guess I forgot.”
“It’s okay, Dad, don’t worry about it. I’m trying not to think of it either.”
Bobbi grabbed a clean mug from the cupboard and held it aloft. “Coffee?”
“Sure, thanks for asking.”
They both turned as Betty waltzed into the kitchen, her long hair tangled past her shoulders, her eyes overly bright and her makeup obviously days old. She smelled like a brewery and looked worse.
“I see you’ve managed to find your way home again,” Bobbi said through grated teeth.
“Now girls, let’s keep our claws in,” Gramps said hurriedly as he followed Betty into the kitchen. “Who wants bacon and eggs?”
Bobbi pulled out a chair for her father and shook her head. “Not me, I’m out the door in ten minutes.”
Betty arched an eyebrow as she shrugged out of her jacket and hung it on the back end of the closest chair. “Off to work?” Her forehead wrinkled and she pursed her mouth. “Oh, wait. That would be wrongedy-wrong-wrong, since Gerry fired your ass last week.”
Bobbi’s perfect manicured nails bit into the palm of her hand painfully. She’d been riding a tightrope all weekend, ever since…
Heat surged over her face as she thought of Shane.
And all the things they’d done together.
All the things they’d done together, over and over…and over again.
“Are you going to hit me, Bobbi?”
“Someone needs to do more than that,” Herschel muttered as he grabbed eggs, bacon, cheese and milk out of the fridge.
Betty ignored her grandfather and slid into a chair, resting her elbows onto the table as she gazed at her father. “You want to do something today?”
Travis shook his head, his fingers picking at the edge of his cardigan. He was getting nervous. And why wouldn’t he with Betty’s intense eyes focused on him like he was an insect or something.
“I’m sorry, Bets. I’m not feeling up to much.”
“Oh,” Betty said softly, turning her attention to the table as she flicked away invisible crumbs. “I just thought, you know, we haven’t really hung out and—”
