Page 89 of More Than a Spark

“Sure.” After putting creamer into his coffee, he followed me to the table and sat at the head of it.

I dropped into the chair on his right. Funny how we always took the same positions around this table. The chair opposite mine was where Hazel had always sat. My gaze flowed out the sliding glass doors next to us and into the sunny back yard of landscaping rocks and a lone mesquite tree. At one time, the tree had a rope swing in it that Dad had set up for us. I sipped my coffee as my mind filled with images of pushing Hazel on the swing, and Milo. Did Milo have feelings for me back then I didn’t know about? A soft ache floated through my chest.

“Son? What’s going through your mind?” He sipped his coffee, then exhaled.

“Oh, just memories of this place.” I tilted my head, then flicked my gaze to his. Dad had done a great job raising us, even with the limited money he had and the little help from Mom and her wealthy husband. “Mom wants to mend our relationship.”

“Oh?” He shifted in his seat. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.” I breathed in deeply. “I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but she agreed to get counseling with me.” Would it really work though? Cash had given me the number of the therapist before I’d left.

With a nod, he said, “Good. How did she take you and Milo being in a romantic relationship?”

“She was tolerant of it, but gave me the speech about being worried for me, you know, because of possible prejudice.” I fingered the handle of my mug. I supposed I couldn’t blame her for that. It did show she cared about me.

“And how did Malcolm take it?” He raised his chin, studying me.

“About the same.” I chewed my thumbnail, a knot forming in my gut. What was it about the conversation with Mom that wasn’t sitting well with me? “If…if this doesn’t work out, the therapy with her, am I getting my hopes up for nothing?”

“Maybe, but that’s a chance you have to take, isn’t it?” He drank more coffee. “Are you afraid?”

Dropping my hand to my lap with a sigh, I said, “Yeah, I guess that’s it. I don’t want to get close to her, only to have things fall apart again.” I rubbed the heel of my hand over the ache in my chest. She’d been like that before, getting close to me while planning my big eighteenth birthday party, then not answering, or returning my calls right after I’d moved to Flag. I’d wondered if I’d done something wrong. Maybe I had. “She told me about her uncle Stan. Did you know about him?”

He pressed his lips into a grim line. “I did.”

I leaned forward in my chair, propping my elbows on the table and holding my hands together in front of my mouth. “So, she said one of the reasons she didn’t want me being a firefighter was because she was afraid I’d end up like him.” There was so much to unpack in all of this. Being with Milo all weekend, I hadn’t had the time to digest what she’d said.

Dad’s brow twitched. “Oh?” With his gaze falling to his coffee, he turned it in his hands. “I suppose that makes sense. She never told me much about him.”

Did he think she’d lied to me? “Why do you think she never brought him up before?” I peered at him. It was such a weird thing to bring up.

He shrugged and sat back in his chair, his gaze moving toward the patio doors, the sun from outside glinting off the wrinkles on his forehead and around his eyes. “Don’t know.” His gaze found mine. “I’m sorry, I don’t have all the answers. I wish I could tell you for certain things will work out, but I can’t.” He winced. “You have to try. There’s nothing I want more for you than for you to have a good relationship with your mother.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “You’re right, I have to try.” I’d text her today to see her availability and make the therapy appointment. “Thanks, Dad.” Flashing him a grin, I sipped my coffee.

TWENTY-THREE

MILO

It was mid-week, and I strode across campus with my portfolio dangling from one hand. I didn’t want to be late for the event with AllAction and quite frankly, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I pushed a door open on the student center and walked inside the cavernous main area, where fast food restaurants lined up along one wall and long tables spilled out in front of them with students studying and eating.

I set my sights on a row of booths set up at the end where the AllAction logo loomed high on a wall display behind a table draped with a tablecloth, also displaying the company logo. There were a few other companies lined up next to them.

Students piled up in front of the other companies, but only a few students stood at the AllAction table.

As I strolled closer, my gaze landed on a sign next to their table, reading,Invitation Only.

My pulse shot up and I wiped my sweaty palm down the thigh of my board shorts, then looked down at my sneakers. I’d gone with a nice pair of shorts since it was still hot as hell outside, but had at least worn a button-down shirt for this.

I approached their table, then stopped, and set my portfolio down next to me to lean against my legs. I hadn’t been sure if I should bring it, but what the hell.

A woman with brown hair, curled at her shoulders, stood behind the table in a blue blouse and a gray pencil skirt, chatting with a guy from one of my design classes. Next to her, a man in black slacks and a gray shirt spoke with another student I didn’t recognize.

What was his name? Henry or something? This school was so big, it was impossible to know all the people I was in classes with. I shifted my weight, watching Henry and the woman. His artwork was top notch, and his world building was unbelievable. He’d get picked for a job for sure. My heart sank. I didn’t have a chance. But maybe that was better anyways.

Henry and the woman shook hands, and he walked off. As he passed me, he upnodded. “Hey, Milo.”

“Uh, hi.” I gave him a stilted waved. Guess he remembered me. My gaze fluttered to the woman at the table.

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