Page 67 of In It to Win It

“We wanted you to get a good start to your career. We know it’s different these days. It’s hard for kids to save up, and buying a place is out of reach for so many.”

“Well, luckily you helped me out with my school expenses, and it won’t take me that long to pay off the loans I have.” Again, it could be worse. I know kids with tons more debt than I have.

“You let me know if you need anything at all,” Dad says. “I’ll help however I can.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I pause. “Are you doing okay?”

His eyes shadow. “Yeah. I’m okay. Not how I pictured life at this point. But that’s okay.”

“You and Mom were going to retire and travel.”

“I can still travel. It’ll just be different.”

“What about retirement?”

“Think I’ll keep working a bit longer,” he says gruffly. “Probably good for me to stay busy.”

It doesn’t sound like this was Dad’s choice. I’m so curious, but reluctant to ask more questions. I don’t want to be mad at my mom, but . . . she seems to be doing fine, whereas Dad . . . he’s obviously sad. “Yeah,” I agree. “And one big change at a time is enough.”

“You’re a smart girl.” He gives me a fond smile and heads back out to get another box.

He brings in more cartons while I unpack things and put them away. Then he gets out his tools and helps me install the blinds I bought for the bedroom window and a curtain rod for the living room curtains I picked out. “I’ll come back and help you hang your pictures when you figure out where you want things,” he says.

“There’s a drawer in the kitchen that sticks. D’you think you could look at that?”

He takes care of that for me too, then drives us back to the house for my last night living under my parents’ roof.

It’sHalloween and I’m moving.

I took the day off work, since the end of the month fell midweek and we have to be out of the house today.

My parents are helping out by paying movers and letting me take whatever furniture I need, so I have my bedroom set, a sofa and love seat and tables from our family room, and other miscellaneous stuff. Mom’s here now, buzzing around cleaning now that the place is nearly empty.

Determined to be cheerful about this, since Lacey and Théo are helping me, I’m wearing a witch hat (it’s really nice, with black silk flowers and feathers) along with my old jeans and a black T-shirt.

Lacey laughs when she sees me. “That’s perfect.”

“What are you saying, Lace?” I touch my hat. “You saying I’m a witch?”

“Nothing wrong with being a witch. I wish I were a witch. With magical powers.”

“Good point. I’d just twitch my nose at this stuff and it would magically appear in my apartment.”

“Twitch your nose?”

I jump at JP’s instantly recognizable voice. “What are you doing here?” Seeing him has my pulse fluttering and my belly flip-flopping.

“Came to help. Nice hat. But you won’t have to use magical powers. I brought more help.” He nods at the three very tall men standing with him.

One guy steps forward, hand outstretched, wearing a friendly smile. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Stanley—wanna see my cup?”

I take his hand hesitantly, taken aback by his greeting. “Uh . . .”

“Ignore him—he’s an idiot,” JP says. “And his name is John, not Stanley, for Chrissake. John Dutchyshyn.”

“It’s a joke,” John mutters.

I can’t help but smile.

---