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“I'm going to pretend this sarcastic attitude is a result of pregnancy and let that go.”
“You don't get to make comments like that and expect me not to fire back a similar response. What do you think it means when I say he wants me to do whatever I want?”
“He's going to keep you home. That's where he wants you. You'll be the Carmela Soprano from “The Sopranos.” Spending endless amounts of money, keeping an eye on the kids, and letting your intelligence go to waste.”
The thing is, I can't even tell him he's wrong. I'm sure that is what Callum would want if I allowed him to have his way. “That's his knee-jerk reaction,” I say, choosing my words carefully and trying to ignore the smug look on my dad's face. “My happiness and what I want is important to him. I'm not pretending to know how good I have it, because being freely open to walk away from something that makes me unhappy is extremely lucky. Let's face it, it's not like I'm fulfilling my potential by checking spreadsheets all day, either.”
“I'm telling you, that wouldn't be forever. Not for a girl as smart as you.”
“No offense, Dad, but the workforce has changed. It's not all about putting in the time with the company anymore. There are no guarantees. I would rather spend my time feeling fulfilled.”
“You've made your decision. And at least I don't have to worry about you getting kicked out on your ass when you can't make rent.”
“That's true.” I reach out, covering his hand on the table with my own. “You don't have to worry about me. I mean it. I'm fine. He wants to take care of me.”
“That doesn't make me feel better.”
“He'll take care of the baby. That much, I know for sure.”
He grumbles while withdrawing his hand, then standing and walking over to the fridge. “Did you have lunch? I should've asked.”
“I ate a little something before I went to the store to make sure I didn't overbuy when I arrived.”
His laugh is genuine, even light. “Your mother's tried-and-true technique. She used to carry protein bars in her purse just in case.” The way he transforms when he talks about her both warms my heart and makes me indescribably sad. He's a young man still, and he's nice looking—he's my dad, but I can look at him objectively.
He could find somebody to love him. Somebody who makes him happy. It's a shame, the thought of him spending the rest of his life only loving the memory of my mother.
“You only ate a little?” He leans into the fridge. “What about a sandwich? Turkey? Bologna?”
My stomach growls at the word. I didn't even feel that hungry until now. “Bologna and American? I brought a loaf of rye.”
He grins over the top of the door. “And I have brown mustard. Just the way you like it.”
“I had no idea that was exactly what I wanted until you said it.”
I get the feeling he misses taking care of me. If I wasn't hungry, I'd pretend to be if only to see him looking glad for a minute, even whistling under his breath as he smears a thick layer of mustard on a slice of rye. “Has Callum forgiven me yet for what I did?”
I had no idea he'd want to talk about that, now or ever. And I was more than willing to let it go, if only to avoid the discomfort that makes me shift in my chair. “You'd have to ask him.”
“Don't be cute.”
“I don't think he holds a grudge,” I relent. “At all.”
“How… about you?” He slides the sandwich in front of me before returning to the chair across from mine. It's obvious he's going out of his way to avoid eye contat with me, as he examines a scratch on the table instead. He's probably looked at the thing a hundred times.
I should've known he was more worried about me. “I don't like to hold grudges, either. They're a waste of energy. And I wouldn't have shown up with groceries if I was angry.”
Even so, the memory of that day makes me feel a little sick, causing me to set the sandwich down for a second. “You must know it hurt me to watch you beat him like that. Is this what I have to look forward to? It'll make for a hell of a Christmas party.”
“I didn't want to hurt you. I was trying to—”
“Help me. I know.”
“I was doing everything I could to protect you.” He grimaces when our eyes meet, then quickly looks away. “I did everything I could think to do. I found that damn camera and I saw red.”
“I know. I was upset when I found out about it. I didn't talk to him for days.” That wasn't quite the truth—that wasn't why we didn't talk for days, but he doesn't need to know that. He never needs to know that. The thought of how he'd react is almost enough to make me regret eating when my stomach tightens.
“I won't say what I'm thinking.”
