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“What? Why did you leave?”
I scowl. Bella curls up on my legs, then flops onto her back, begging for belly rubs. “Look. I just wanted to go home, okay? It wasn’t the place for me.”
“Oh,” Christine answers. “I thought you said you never wanted to go back to Clare. Before the Fringe Fest started, you said Heart’s Cove felt like home.”
“Yeah, well, I was wrong.”
“Did you meet someone?”
“What? No,” I say a little too forcefully. “There’s no one.” Bella lifts her head when I stop rubbing her belly. She nudges my hand until I start again.
“Hmm,” my daughter answers.
“Don’t ‘hmm’ me, missy. I’m going home, back where I belong. I’ll get some money together and I might be able to buy back the family land.”
“Right,” Christine says.
“Right,” I answer.
“Okay,” she adds.
“O-kay.” I sound petulant and childish. I don’t care.
“…Will I see you before grad school starts?”
I close my eyes. “Of course. Yes. I’ll meet you before you leave. I’ll be home in a couple of days, and I’ll catch you before you and Matt leave for your road trip. I promise.”
“All right,” Christine answers after a beat. “Miss you, Dad.”
Just like that, all the fight leaves my body. “I miss you too, Bug. You know you’re the best thing that ever happened to me, right?”
“I know. And you’re the best father I could have ever asked for.”
I clear my throat and ignore the prickling in my eyes. “I’ll see you soon.” My voice is gruff, and I start pulling the phone from my ear.
“Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah?” Bella’s fur is soft under my fingertips. I stroke it again and again, letting the repetitive motion soothe us both.
“Maybe there’s something in Heart’s Cove for you. I know you lost the house when you and Mom divorced, but that doesn’t mean you can’t fight for something else. It doesn’t mean you’ll always lose.”
I grunt.
“Plus, do you even want that old patch of land? That old house? You never told me one good memory from your childhood.”
My voice is gruff when I answer. “It’s home, Bug.”
“Home is wherever you decide it is. Why do you want to go back? Why not start somewhere new?”
“I don’t think there’s anywhere else that’s quite right for me. It’s better for me to go back where I belong.”
“Your voice sounded different when you were there,” Christine says. “Better. Now it’s like the old you, how you sounded when you and Mom split up.” She pauses, and I can picture her chewing her lip. Then, very quietly, she says, “I’m worried about you.”
Pain lances my chest. “I’m fine, Christine. You quit worryin’ about me and worry about grad school, okay?”
She sighs. “Okay. But… Dad?”
I stroke Bella’s big, floppy ears. “Yeah?”
