Page 112 of Someone to Have
“Who are you calling old, Red?” he demands, then returns her wink with one of his own. “But you’re right about me being soft, especially for my baby girl here.”
He holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal you for a dance with your not-so-old man?”
“You’re not going to get a better invitation than that,” Molly says with a wide smile and a slight nudge.
“Since when do you dance?” I ask my father as I remove my apron and step out from behind the table.
Dad puffs up his barrel chest. “Since I became a patron of the arts. Theater one weekend, then crafting, and now dancing.”
“Mom would be so proud.” I lean in to kiss his cheek. “I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you too, sweetheart.”
Despite his skill on the ice, he’s not the most graceful on the dance floor. But we sway gently, and I breathe in the familiar scent of his aftershave.
“I’m sorry if I haven’t been the kind of father you needed me to be. Especially after your mom died. She was the glue who kept our family together.”
“You do okay, Dad.”
“You’re too good to me, my girl.” His giant hand holds tight to mine. “You know we call you Tink with a great deal of affection.”
“I know.” I rest my head on his shoulder.
“I mean it, Taylor.” He pulls back to look me straight in the eye. “Your mother never wanted to talk about this with any of you kids, but that gap between you and your brother? It wasn’t on purpose or because you were some kind of oops baby. Your mother lost two babies before we had you.”
Shock courses through me, along with a dull ache in my chest at what my mom must have suffered.
My father’s eyes cloud with pain. “Then you came along, so pink and perfect and healthy. Those miscarriages were hard on her. Hard on the two of us. You were the miracle that brought sunshine back into our lives.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes. “But I didn’t fit with the rest of you. I couldn’t live up to the Maxwell?—”
“Neither of us gave a rat’s ass whether you picked up a hockey stick or baby dolls. Your mother would laugh and laugh as she watched you toddle around the house. She’d hold you close after you fell until you stopped crying, and then you’d be off again. She lost her laughter for a while, Tink. You gave it back to her.”
“I know you wanted me to be more like?—”
“No.” He places a calloused finger against my lips. “You’re perfect just the way you are. I’m sorry I made you think any differently. My parents were hard on me, and I didn’t want to be that kind of father. Sports gave me an outlet and a way to connect because I was shit at emotions. Still am.”
“You’re kind of killing it right now,” I say with a watery smile.
“I know you were your mother’s girl, but I love you, too. I always will.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
He stops moving and puts his big hands on my shoulders. “Guys like me, the ones who have trouble with emotions… it doesn’t mean we don’t feel them. And I hope it doesn’t mean you won’t give us a chance to prove it.”
“Dad, there’s nothing?—”
He hugs me tight, then steps away, peering over my shoulder. “Don’t fuck this up.”
I whirl around to see Eric standing behind me. Couples twirl and spin around us as the band picks up the tempo, but all I can see is him. He’s wearing a dark suit, crisp white shirt, and sky-blue tie. He looks so good it practically takes my breath away, which is nothing new.
“Yes, sir,” he says, then clears his throat when his voice catches. He offers an almost shy smile. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I whisper.
“May I finish this dance?”
The song fades out as he asks the question.
