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My phone vibrated in my purse, and I saw a text from my father, telling me he was already at the restaurant but to take my time.
“My dad’s early,” I said, thumbing toward the door. “I’m glad you’re not upset with me.”
I started to turn around, but he cleared his throat. I turned back, surprised to see he looked nervous.
“If you’d really like to make it up to me,” he said, resting his hand on the counter, “maybe we could go out to dinner together.”
My face flushed. “Are you asking me out on a date, Nate?”
“Good rhyme.” His face lit up. Then, as though remembering the topic of the conversation, he grimaced. “And yes, I am.”
“I’d like that. A lot.” Nate was nice and obviously attractive. The idea of doing something normal like going out on a date with a man who wasn’t a narcissistic asshole was appealing. Then reality washed over me like hot acid. “But not until I finish this case.”
“Of course,” he said enthusiastically, then cringed. “I think I’m losing my cool points here.”
“That’s presuming you had them to begin with,” I said with a laugh. “But I always thought you did.” I opened the door and gave him a backward glance. “Bye, Nate.”
Chapter 30
Roots wasn’t a very big restaurant, but it bordered on fancy with its plush carpet and white tablecloths. People came from all over to eat here. It was fairly easy to get a table for lunch, but a reservation was usually required for nights and weekends.
The dining room was half-full, but I had no trouble spotting my father toward the back of the room. He looked up and saw me heading toward him, and to my surprise, he got up and stood next to his chair, waiting for me.
When I reached him, he pulled me into a warm embrace, holding me tight, then he grabbed my arms and held me back as he searched my face, although I had no idea what he was looking for. “Thanks for meeting with me.”
“Of course.” Worry niggled at the base of my head. This was unusual behavior for my father. He’d never been demonstrative. Not even before Andi’s abduction. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, have a seat.” He motioned to the chair across from his. “I’m glad you asked to meet with me. I was actually going to come over to your apartment after I got home from work.”
“Oh?”
His lips stretched into a thin smile, then he gestured to the two glasses in front of me. “They brought you water, but I also ordered you some lemonade. You always used to love their lemonade when you were a girl.”
Andi had been the one who loved their lemonade, but I refrained from telling him so. “Thanks.” I picked it up and took a sip, trying not to cringe at the overly sweet drink. “I haven’t been here since I graduated from high school.”
“Not much has changed,” he said, wiping his thumb along the side of his water glass, brushing the condensation onto the table. “Kind of like your mother.”
I’d rarely heard him criticize my mother, so I stared at him in shock.
He looked up, tears filling his eyes. “Sarah Jane isn’t an easy woman to live with, and I apologize for not doing more to make your life easier. Especially after…” His voice trailed off.
I reached over the table and covered his hand with mine. “Dad, no…” It sounded strangled as I pushed the words past the lump in my throat.
His shoulders rose as he took in a deep breath, and a look of determination filled his eyes. “Yes. The truth is, I haven’t been a good father. At first, I was too busy building my career to spend time with you girls, and after Andi was taken, I was too grief-stricken to really consider how hard it was for you.” His chin trembled. “And your mother sure never did.”
Tears burned my eyes. This was all coming out of nowhere and I was completely caught off guard. The wall protecting my emotions was falling fast.
The waitress approached with a cheerful smile. “Are you two ready to order?”
I hadn’t even looked at the menu, but my father had just said nothing had changed so I ordered my old favorite, a Caesar salad. My father ordered pot roast, and the waitress scooped up the menus and carried them away.
I waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t, I said, “I’ve always loved you, Dad.”
He held my gaze. “But you felt abandoned by me.”
I couldn’t bring myself to deny it. Instead, I said, “I’m sure you did the best you could. Especially after Andi. We were all drowning in grief and guilt. We dealt with it in our own, weird ways.”
“I should have been—”
