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“Everything fit in the car?”
“Yeah. All good.”
My mom took a bunch of stuff back after graduation and the house I lived in was fully furnished. All I had to load this morning were a few suitcases.
“Sorry to interrupt,” Natalie’s mom says with a smile. “Catherine, did the buns get brought out?”
My mom glances around. “No, I think they’re still in the kitchen. Let me just finish arranging all of this and then I’ll head inside and grab them.”
“I can do it,” I volunteer.
My mom gives me a grateful look. “Top of the fridge.”
“Got it.” I head for the front door, smiling back at the familiar faces I see.
I’m accustomed to the changes in the cabin. But it’s still strange, walking inside and seeing the different furnishings. New furniture and changes to the wall decorations. But the most disconcerting sight is my dad standing in the living room, his hands shoved in his pockets as he stares out the window toward the lake.
I debate for a second, then walk over to him, stopping a couple of feet away.
“Mom changed a lot, huh?” I aim the words at the window I’m facing.
He doesn’t speak right away. “Yeah,” he finally responds. “She did.”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d gotten here yet.” It’s the closest I’ll come to admitting I looked for him when we arrived.
“Just came in to use the bathroom.”
I say nothing to that. I certainly don’t mention the obvious detour.
We stand side by side, staring out at the woods in a building that’s hosted some of my happiest memories. Vacations with my parents when I was younger. Falling for Maeve when I was in high school.
The silence between us is weighted, but it’s not uncomfortable. I’ve never been shy about expressing my resentments. The past isn’t malleable. It remains solid, unchanged by current feelings or events that have taken place since. But he’s still my dad, and he’s continued to show up. Even at events like this, when he’s forced to face his mistakes. He’s shown up, and that means something.
Means a lot.
“Hard leaving Lincoln this morning?” my dad asks. At one point in time, I’d take his question as an affront. A not-so-subtletold you so. Lincoln was where he went, and some of my complicated feelings toward my dad got transferred to the university. I loved my time there. Thrived there, just like he said I would.
I let him be proud, instead of taking offense.
“Yeah, it was,” I answer. “Nice to be back home, at least for a little while.” Although Fayetteville is even less of a home than I considered Alleghany to be. I’m not sure if the descriptor qualifies, but it’s the closest fit. “San Diego will be a big change.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I catch my dad’s slow nod. California isn’t close to Florida, either, which is where he ended up after the divorce. “It will be.”
“You planning to visit?”
I glance over, and he meets my gaze for the first time.
“Of course.”
I nod. Half-smile. And then words I wasn’t planning to say—to anyone—spill out. “I’m going to propose to Maeve.” I glance over one shoulder, checking to make sure no one else has entered the living room since I did and overheard what I just said. Still empty.
Even once the words left my mouth, I’m shocked they did. My dad and I haven’t been on the sort of terms where I tell him secrets or ask advice in a long time.
“Good,” is my dad’s reply.
I raise a brow in response. “You’re not going to say I’m too young?”
He smiles, a little wry and a lot uncertain. “Would you listen to anything I said?”
