Page 96 of Those Two Words

“You’re fine, kiddo, I kept myself busy. Did you see Pat?”

“Yeah, I saw him.” I let out a sigh. “I told him everything.”

My dad’s brow raises at that, but not so much in surprise. He slowly nods, eyes crinkling when he smiles softly. “I’m glad. I know it can be hard for you to share that, but I’m proud of you.”

“I’m sorry, Dad,” I mutter as my chin drops to my chest.

“What on god’s earth are you sorry for?”

“For everything.” I try blinking away the tears, but my vision starts to blur. “But especially for putting you in a position like that after Ted’s funeral. For fighting you, when really I knew I needed to find help. You’d just lost your best friend; you shouldn’t have been dealing with my mess.”

“Johanna,” he says and places his hand on top of mine. “I’m going to stop you right there. Never, and I mean never, should you have to apologize for what happened. And if anyone ever makes you feel that you should, well, then send them my way and I’ll give them a talking to. What you’ve been through isn’t a mess, it’s a small blip, one that you have overcome with grace and strength. You deserve to find someone who stands beside you during your bad days, but also someone who makes your good ones even better. I’m guessing you’ve found that person, huh?”

I nod my head immediately, no question about it.

“And that’s all a father can ask for his little girl. I never doubted your strength, but I’ll always worry about you, Johanna. Protecting you is like second nature, so I can’t promise I won’t be overly dad-ish from time to time, no matter how old you are.” His eyes sheen with love, and I’m reminded how lucky I am to have a parent who cares so deeply for me the way he does. He tilts his head with a knowing smile. “I’m guessing Patrick’s that person?”

“He’s my person,” I confirm. My cheeks ache from how wide I’m grinning, and from the satisfied look on my dad’s face, it’s all the answer he needs.

“Can’t say I didn’t see that coming. I know he’ll treat you right.” He rises and pulls me to stand with him. “Now, go cook dinner for your old man, I’m starving.”

As I laugh my way up the stairs, my dad’s own laughter following behind me, I think how different this day was six years ago. Barely staying afloat. I’d still be treading water like my life depended on it, if I didn’t have the amazing support network around me.

And though it was hard, I found my way home, and that’s all that matters.

“Booth. I swear if you don’t stop fidgeting, I’m going to punch you in the dick,” Patrick snaps beside me.

We’re all antsy, but Booth hasn’t stopped pacing the office since we got here, slowly wearing a hole in the floorboards.

“Honestly, it might help me stop feeling so sick. Where are they?” Booth whines and continues his persistent pacing until Patrick tugs him to sit next to him. I’m surprised the worn leather sofa we’re sitting on doesn’t cave with the weight of our combined nerves.

Booth continues to annoy us as his knee bobs up and down, foot tapping against the floor.

“Booth, if you don’t quit it, I’ll punch you in the dick,” I say, peering around Patrick with a warning glare.

“Pat, please get a hold of your woman,” Booth says, suddenly calm as he leans against the sofa with his hands behind his head. Patrick and I stare at him. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, you idiots. I saw that hickey on Jo’s neck outside the bakery weeks ago. You guys are shit at hiding things. About time you quit dancing around each other, it was getting old.”

I gape at Booth, but Patrick only chuckles softly next to me. My warning glare is aimed at him now, but Patrick shrugs off his little brother’s comment and takes hold of my hand like it’s the most natural thing to do in the world.

Today is the day.

It came around too quickly and slowly at the same time. But the wait is over when Dad and Claire finally walk in. Even with our parents present, he doesn’t pull his hand away and satisfaction blooms in my stomach that we’ve come to some unspoken agreement and our relationship is no longer hush-hush.

Claire takes a seat in the chair behind the desk while my dad sits in a wooden one beside her. It almost feels like an episode of The Apprentice with how we’re all sitting.

“Thanks for coming in today,” my dad starts. “I don’t want to drag this out, and I know you’re all eager to know what the plan is, but before we get to that, I just want to say that the last few months have been some of the best performing months the restaurant has seen in a long time.”

Does he sound nervous?

The tension melts from Patrick’s fingers, but something in my dad’s tone only has me tensing more. Patrick must notice, because he turns and gives me a reassuring smile, like he knows it’s all going to be okay. I just wish I shared his confidence.

“We can’t thank you enough for all the hard work and extra hours you’ve put in. I know the news in February came as a shock to you all, and it wasn’t a decision we took lightly. You kids went above and beyond to put this place back on the map. Even Mrs. Stewart left us a positive review online.”

We all chuckle at that, though the humor is shrouded with foreboding.

“Booth, the food was perfect as always, and we loved what you did with the specials. The taste of Maine with a twist. Good job, son.” Booth puffs his chest out, and I know the praise from my dad means a lot to him. My dad looks at Patrick and me next. “You two have really outdone yourselves. I know it was a rocky start, but the way you’ve worked together has been nothing but tremendous. It reminded me of the days when you were youngsters, fighting over who would bus the tables on a Friday night. I’m glad it all worked out.” There’s more behind his words than just working together at the restaurant. His lips turn up at the corners when he sees our fingers laced together.

He’s glad we worked out.

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