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My dad chuckled. “Of course.”
“Would you like some now? You might need it.”
Shaking his head, he returned, “Do you know what your mother would do to me if I decided to indulge in ice cream before dinner?”
He had a valid point. My mom would lose her mind. “Fair enough.”
“What’s going on?”
After letting out another sigh, I slid the letter across the table for him to read and revealed, “It looks like we could be in for another battle.”
He took the letter from me, but he didn’t attempt to read it. Horror had consumed him. “What?”
I gestured to the letter. “Read it.”
My father glanced down at the letter and read it. I watched as he went through a gamut of emotions, ultimately deciding he was both aggravated and tired.
Those were my exact sentiments. But since I’d had several more minutes to deal with the news than he did, I felt it was necessary for me to push my feelings aside and reassure him.
“It was a waste of their time, Dad.”
“You don’t intend to respond?” he questioned me.
I smiled. “Oh, I’m planning to respond. It’s just that they aren’t going to get the answer they want. You don’t have to worry about this, because I’m going to take care of it. I’ll nip it in the bud before it has the chance to become more of a problem.”
A proud look washed over his face. “Of course. You’re Rhea Marks, tough as nails.”
Unable to argue that point, I muttered, “That’s why I balance things out with the sugary sweet ice cream every day.”
He held my gaze briefly before he said, “Well, I came here because your mom wanted me to ask you if you wanted to have dinner with us tonight. Your grandparents will be there. I’m guessing, considering this news, it’s probably best to bring everyone up to speed.”
Not quite fifteen minutes ago, I had planned to leave, head home, and relax for the evening. Unfortunately, it seemed that wasn’t going to happen.
My dad was right. I needed to bring everyone up to speed, and there was no better time or place to do that than during a meal with my family. “What’s for dinner?”
Grinning, my dad stood and held his arms out to me. I rose from my seat, stepped into his arms, and hugged him tightly. “We’ll get through this, Rhea. We always do.”
I inhaled deeply and nodded against his chest. “I know.”
A moment later, my dad was waiting while I locked up my shop. Then the two of us made our way to my parents’ house, the home on the 236-acre dairy farm where I was raised.
I still lived on the farm, but I did it in my own farmhouse on another section of the property, and I loved it. I loved this place and the memories it held. And one day, I hoped I’d be able to raise my own family on this very farm.
I tried not to think too often about the future, though, and chose to focus on each day as it came, instead. It was too easy to get caught up in visions of a nameless husband, faceless children, and the life I wanted us to build together.
I’d allowed myself to have those daydreams before, and I’d done all of that with the wrong person. So, it was better this way and much safer for my heart.
We made it to the house, and the second we stepped inside, my mom, Danielle, called out from the kitchen, “Did Rhea come for dinner?”
“I’m here, Mom,” I yelled back as I moved in that direction.
I was stopped on the way by my grandfather, Henry. “Hi, Rhea.”
“Hi, Grandpa,” I replied, offering a hug and a kiss on his cheek. “How are you feeling?”
“I was already feeling great today, but now that you’re here, I’m doing even better,” he answered.
Tipping my head to the side, I smiled at him. There was no question being the only child came with perks. I was the favorite grandchild. Of course, that didn’t mean I was spoiled rotten—I was still very much a doting granddaughter. And since Grandpa had gotten a horrible case of the flu this past winter, I found myself constantly asking him how he was feeling now that he’d recovered.
