Page 6 of The Accidental Text

Never have I ever felt appreciation for a layer of dust. But I do right now. It’s proof that the phone has sat there, untouched. My secrets are safe. It’s hard to believe that my mom will never hold that phone again. She’ll never answer a call, never send a text.

“What are you up to?” I ask my dad as I take a step closer to him and look at the screen he’s been studying intently.

I take a sharp breath inward. “Silver Match?” I say, my voice taking on a scratchy sound from my instantly dry throat.

My dad is looking at a dating site. For old people. I knew this kind of thing existed, having looked at dating sites myself, but I didn’t know he’d have a clue about them. He’s not all that internet savvy. And he’s only been single for three months.

My dad, who has been mostly in a trance since I got here, whips his head toward me, realizing what he’s looking at and that he just got caught looking at it.

“It’s not what you think,” he says, the words spilling out of his mouth.

“Well, it looks like you’re scrolling through single ladies on the internet,” I say, unable to keep my tone from sounding horrified.

“Okay … then itiswhat you think.” He reaches up and rubs his jaw. Like he’s always done when he’s been caught.

“Dad?”

He sighs. “I’m not dating anyone. It’s just … well, you know June?”

I almost laugh when he says that. Do I know June? Our neighbor down the street? The one who’s been in our neighborhood almost as long as we have?

I nod my head. “Of course I know June,” I say. Her oldest son, Shane, used to pull my pigtails in the second grade.

“Well, she’s been doing the single thing for a while now.”

“Right,” I say.

June has been single since my junior year of high school, when her husband, Roger, passed away unexpectedly.

“Anyway, we got to talking,” my dad continues. “I told her I was curious what was out there, and she told me to have a look. So”—he motions toward the screen—“that’s what I’m doing.”

“Why?”

He shrugs one shoulder. “I mean, I don’t want to date anyone, but it’s … more informational, that’s all.”

My dad leans back in his seat, folding his arms. For nearly sixty, he’s in quite good shape. He’d probably look even younger if it weren’t for the almost-all-gray hair. He started graying early, right around the time that Devon was born. Although he’s not sure if it was something genetic or if Devon was the cause. I’d put money on the latter.

“I thought you said you never wanted to date again?”

“I did say that. And I still feel that way. It’s just … lonely.”

I reach over and put a hand on his shoulder, feeling my heart do a sudden twisty thing. “I’m sorry, Dad.”

“I have you kids, of course, but … it’s hard to come home to this big empty house sometimes.”

Even though Mom has been gone for only three months, Dad has been coming home to an empty house for more than six. Since my mom went into the hospital and never came home.

I swallow audibly, wanting to ask him a question but not sure I want the answer. “Did you find anyone … interesting?”

My dad gives me a small smile. “No. Probably because no one compares to your mother. It was just out of curiosity mostly.”

I feel relief wash over me. I want my dad to be happy. I just want him to be happy being alone for the rest of his life. Which is very selfish of me, I realize. But I’ve only just lost my mom; I don’t need to add a new wife for my dad into the mix. Would it be like a stepmom thing? I’m too old for that, right? Oh gosh. I hope it never gets to that.

My dad stands up from his chair. “Don’t worry, Magpie. No one can replace your mom.”

“I know that,” I say, feeling a lump in my throat make an appearance. This is a familiar feeling, unfortunately. I’ve cried so much throughout the past year, it’s become an unwanted companion of mine.

“Well, that was enough looking around for me,” my dad says, pushing his chair back from his desk and standing up. “Ice cream?”

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