Page 70 of The Problem with Players

He huffed. “Lucky me indeed. Remind me to kick Willow’sbutt when she makes it back to Illinois.” He then grew somber again. “Avery?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I know, Dad.”

“Avery,” he repeated.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

My heart skipped a few times as tears burned at the back of my eyes. I nodded slowly. “I know, Dad.”

“You know, as a father, you’re learning as much as your kids are learning, too. And you figure out that each kid needs a little something different because they’re all individuals and unique. I think I love that most about you three girls—you all are so different from one another. But sometimes that makes it hard to know how I’m supposed to show up. If this whole situation happened with your sisters, I’d know what to do.”

“What would you do for Yara?”

“Let her cry on my shoulder while I researched becoming a hitman.”

“And Willow?”

“Go skydiving with her.”

“And me?”

“That’s the thing, you see…I’m not quite sure. That’s what bothers me the most. I think the issue is you’ve always been the strong one. The one who never seemed to need help, yet you were always helping others. And I think you hate the attention and people offering help because it makes you feel weak.”

“That’s true.”

“Yeah, but baby girl, asking for help doesn’t make you weak. Sometimes asking for help is the strongest thing a person could ever do.”

That was a concept I’d simmer on for a good amount of time.

“This is enough,” I offered, holding up half of my sandwich. “You showing up, Dad. That’s enough for me.”

He smiled, and I felt it kiss my soul. “That’s one thing I’ll do for forevermore, my love. I’m always gonna show up for you.”

We continued eating, and he managed to get a few laughs out of me, too, which made him feel like the biggest success that afternoon.

“What’s this I hear about Nathan Pierce sweeping you away over the weekend?” he asked. “I heard about it over at the coffee shop.”

I groaned. “People are talking already, huh?”

“You know this town. It’s what they do best. What’s the deal with you and Nathan?” He lowered his brows. “Is there something there?”

“Gosh, no. Not outside of his coaching with me. He just found me in a bad moment and got me out of town for a bit.” Daddy’s brows stayed lowered as he studied my face, and I laughed. “Seriously, Dad. There’s nothing there. He was just a friend helping me out of a hard time.”

“Afriend?” he questioned. “Last I heard, you hated his guts, and he was going to ruin your coaching style.”

“Right. No. I still hate him. I didn’t mean friend. I meant coworker. He’s fine. It’s whatever. He’s not that bad of an addition to the team. The guys like him. It’s nothing, though. We are strictly professional. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Dad smiled a “bullshit answer but I’ll accept it” kind of smile, and we left the conversation at that.

After our meal, he headed home, and I drove to make one more stop before heading over to Big Bird. My house.

Well, my old house.

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