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“Not in so many words. Said they’re going to the Cape for a few days. I read between the lines.”
His forehead is down as he grabs a can of corn from the pile of recovered grocery items. I stare at his head of full hair—something he takes pride in, considering many of his friends have lost theirs by now. My father really is a good-looking guy. He’s not vain, but he takes care of himself, and he should be proud of that. It’s no wonder women are throwing themselves at him.
“Anna didn’t have to go,” I say, more to be cordial than anything.
He clears his throat. “She has her grandson’s basketball game tonight. Just swung by to have a cup of coffee.”
I look at the unused coffeepot and give a closed-mouth smile. I hate that he has to lie for my benefit, yet I’m too much of an insecure child to tell him he doesn’t have to.
He starts putting items in the cabinets while I take the produce and place them in the refrigerator.
“How does pappardelle pasta with sausage and spinach sound?”
“Hunter’s gonna hate it,” he says.
“I know, but the kid has to start eating healthy. He can’t live on chicken nuggets and hot dogs forever.”
Dad smirks. “Do you remember what your mother said when Izzy wouldn’t eat anything other than pasta with butter or macaroni and cheese?”
I do, so I do my best impersonation of my mother as I say, “So, you mean she eats exactly what’s on a kid’s menu at every restaurant in the country?”
“Exactly. The restaurants offer kids what they want to eat. I was always on your mother to get you to eat better. You grew up on tater tots and corn dogs and turned out just fine.”
“You were the broccoli drill sergeant.”
He looks over at me. “You sound like your mother when you impersonate her. You sound like her, even when you’re not trying. You have a lot of her in you.”
“I don’t know about that. I feel like she’d have a better head for all the changes happening.”
“Don’t be so sure. Your mother had great advice, gave the best of anyone I’ve ever met. Yet when it came to matters of the heart for herself, she could be a little irrational.”
“Then, maybe I do take after her.”
Dad moves his hands to the countertop and leans against it. With a deep, heavy sigh, he nods and then looks up at me. “So, about Anna. What you walked in on was just us embracing.”
My eyes widen as I swallow and start aimlessly opening cabinets, looking for …something.“Yeah.”
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to invite her over for dinner with us and the kids.”
With my back to him, I close my eyes, thankful he can’t see how uncomfortable I am with this conversation. “Sure. Maybe after the holidays. I have a ton of weddings, and the kids have studying and school events. Maybe after the new year?”
My ask is selfish, I know. My mother’s been gone for two years, yet it feels like an instant. I’m happy my father has found peace in her passing, but I’m still getting over the fact that she’s not going to walk through the door any minute with her tote bag falling from her shoulder as she immediately starts telling us a story about what just transpired at the post office.
Mom was a great storyteller.
I miss her so much.
I spin around and see Dad standing in the kitchen with a small nod.
“Yes. After the new year. That sounds like a good time. I’ll be in the garage if you need me.”
“Working out?” I ask, surprised because he usually does his cardio in the morning.
“I think I’ll putter around at my woodworking table for a bit. How did those wooden slats work out for your office wall?”
“Great, Dad. They were perfect. Thank you.”
“Now, if only the neighbors would let me fix that death trap next door, I’ll be happy.”
