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His gaze narrowed thoughtfully. “Though I suppose if I decided to sell the shop, I would need to discuss the matter with him.”
My hackles rose. “It’s time for you to stop this madness. I’m tired. I’m sick to death of answering the same question over and over. We both know you’re not selling the shop, because it’s not yours to sell. It’s Mama’s.”
He looked at me with such disappointment in his gaze that I felt as though I’d somehow failed a test I didn’t know I was taking. The look broke my heart and made me angry all at the same time.
He picked up a box. “Itwasyour mama’s shop. Once. Ithasn’t been for a long time now. Like I’ve been saying, it might be time to let go.”
My head throbbed. “What’re you talking about? Of course it’s still her shop.”
“Hmm.” He started walking the box to the front door.
My face heated as I followed him, trying to keep my temper in check. Outside, a car door slammed, and I looked out and saw Carmella’s SUV in the driveway.
She was headed for the stairs with a Driftwood Realty folder in her hands. Whatever was in it had to be important since she avoided coming to Dad’s house as much as possible—because she was highly allergic to cats.
Molly, the spiteful beast, seemed to know about the aversion, too. Every chance she got, she twined herself around Carmella’s legs. Even now she crept down the steps and stood near the door, ready to generously share her dander.
I kept my voice low, so I didn’t wake Ava. “Why is Carmella here with a real estate folder? What is going on with you?” I pushed. “Something is. Don’t deny it.”
Worry flashed in his eyes. “You’ve gone pale, Maggie. Do you need to sit down?”
I was shaking. “Do not change the subject.”
“Take a deep breath, Magdalena,” he said calmly. “I’ll get you some water.”
“I don’t need water. I need the truth. I need you to stop protecting me.”
He looked upward, then shook his head. “I will protect you until the day I die, and maybe even after that.” He snickered. “I’d make a dandy of a ghost, wouldn’t I?”
He started playing air guitar and began singing the Beatles’ “I’m Looking Through You.”
Red-hot anger sparked, then flared to life. How dare he try to joke? At a time like this? I grabbed my backpack from the hall tree, slung one of the straps over my shoulder. “I’m leaving.”
“Maggie, come on now,” he said. “Stay.”
If I stayed, I was going to say something I would regret. Ididn’t fight with my father. I couldn’t even remember a time when we’d raised our voices to each other. We were peacemakers, the two of us.
In fact, I couldn’t quite remember the last time I truly blew a fuse. Oh, wait. Yes I could. It was when a fourteen-year-old Noah had snuck out of the house to go with his buddies to scope out the Sand Island Lighthouse in the middle of the night. They’d had to be rescued by the Coast Guard when a thunderstorm popped up and sank their boat. If not for a phone call from Estrelle warning me of the danger, who knows what would’ve happened.
I’d needed a sedative to calm down after that incident.
I pulled open the door, catching Carmella as she was about to knock.
She pulled her hand back and held it to her chest in surprise. “Maggie! I didn’t realize you were here. What’s wrong, sweetie?” She looked between Dad and me. “Oh dear. How about we sit and talk abo… about—” She sneezed. “This?”
Molly had snuck out of the house and was executing impeccable figure eights around Carmella’s ankles.
“Unless someone’s ready to tell me what is truly going on, I’m not interested in what you have to say.”
I looked at the folder in her hands, then between the two of them.
Both gazed at me with worried eyes, their lips firmly sealed.
I blew out a breath of frustration and hurried down the steps. My feet had just touched the gravel driveway when I heard my father’s voice drifting down from above.
“The only thing going on here, Maggie, is me trying to helpyoufind your way through.”
I looked up at him.
