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“You’re not fine. You just said you’ve been feeling tired, and you look it. I think I’ll do a clean out of the pantry and toss away any junk food.”
“Ah, sweetheart, I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Bethany has just stocked it, though I admit, that cocoa she gives me every night is so creamy and rich it must have a ton of fat and calories.”
“I rest my case, and enough is enough,” Ellie said firmly. “Enjoy your eggs. I’ll put the hot water kettle on for some tea and be right back.”
“Thanks, sweetheart..”
“No thanks needed. I love you to bits, and looking out for you is my job.”
As he let out a heavy sigh and grinned up at her, she turned and walked through the kitchen and into the large pantry. But when she turned on the light, she stared around in shock. Pre-made, processed, packaged food lined the shelves.
“Damn, Bethany, just how much crap are you feeding him? No wonder he’s not himself. This has to stop.”
“What has to stop?” her father asked, suddenly at her side.
“What we were just talking about,” she replied, waving her arm. “Why don’t you hire a cook? We always had one in New York.”
“I entertained then, but perhaps you’re right. Will you eat home more if I do?”
“Always making deals,” she quipped with a grin. “If it means you’ll start taking better care of yourself, yes, I will. And dad, no more refined sugar. I’ll pick you up some Agave syrup. That’s a good place to start.”
“Okay, sweetheart. But I don’t know how much experience Bethany has hiring people. Will you find us a decent chef?”
“Yes, absolutely,” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around him and hugging him tightly. “Thank you for being so open about all this.”
“I can see you’re very worried, and like I said, I’m not feeling too great. Just between you and me,” he added, lowering his voice, “I miss decent meals, and she’s not crazy about eating out all the time.”
“Uh…can I ask you for one more thing?”
“Sure.”
“Will you let me find you a local doctor? I think you should have a check up?”
“Honey—“
“There might be something seriously wrong. Please dad? Just to put my mind at rest.”
“It’s probably a good idea, but don’t mention this to Bethany. I don’t like keeping things from her, but I don’t want her worrying. I’ll tell her when I get the all clear, and I’m sure I will. Deal?”
“Absolutely, and you can order in from the Barnyard or that little Italian restaurant until I find you a chef. I’m sure it won’t take long. And no more Matilda’s Munchies.”
“One a day,” her father said with a wink.
“Okay, one, but no more.”
“What did I do to deserve such a caring daughter?” he murmured, hugging her.
“It’s the other way around,” she replied, feeling a well of emotion. “I love you so much, dad, and I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”
As the words left her lips, she glanced back into the pantry.
It made no sense.
Unless it was a deliberate attempt to make her father sick.
As the thought floated through her mind, a shiver sent goosebumps popping across her skin.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
