Page 163 of Wingwoman
“Yeah. That’ll do it.” I stared at the wood grain pattern on the table.Don’t cry, don’t cry… all I’d been doing was crying for the last week and I was so sick of it.
“I really did try calling my sponsor, Bug. I called him eight times but I forgot he was on a plane tonight.”
With tears in my eyes, I looked up at my dad. “Why didn’t you callme?” All my feelings, all my thoughts that had been tamped down for years bubbled to the surface. Pressing my hands to the table, I tried to ground myself. “You always manage to call me and rope me into this shitafteryou’re drunk! Why can’t I also be your person when you’re finally sober? Why do Vivian and the Annes get the best parts of you and I getthis!”
“The Annes?” He asked after a moment.
“The Annes! Julianne, Maryanne, Raeanne…”
“Heh. That’s what you call them?” His slow smirk was the reality check I needed. This wasn’t the time. Or the place. Hell, maybe he was drunker than he seemed. Maybe he wasn’t even registering my words.
I wiped my fingers across my damp cheeks and shook my head. “Nevermind. Forget I said anything. I’ll take you back to Viv’s—”
Dad’s hand landed gently over mine. “I told Vivian I wasn’t coming home tonight. I told her I wanted to spend the next two nights with you at the condo.”
My mind went blank at that. “Why would you do that?”
“Because you’re my daughter and I love you. I’d been giving you your space while you were here because it seemed to be what you wanted. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned with Vivian and this sobriety… sometimes it’s when someone is pulling away that we need to hold them even closer.” His voice cracked as a tear fell from his eye. “I’m sorry I never held you close enough, Bug. I’m sorry I was never the father you deserved. I’m sorry you spent a lifetime cleaning up my messes.”
He stood up from where he was sitting across from me and slid beside me, wrapping thick arms around my shoulders. “After twenty-eight years, it’s time I took care of you for once, don’t you think?”
I bit the corner of my mouth, shaking my head. “Take care of me? I’mfine.”
Dad nodded, but didn’t release me from the hug. “I know you are. I know how skilled you are at the fine art of suppression. Again, that one’s on me. In order to release our emotions, we have to feel safe enough to be vulnerable. I know it may take time for you to feel safe with me—”
A sob tore from my chest.
I buried my face in my Dad’s shoulder and cried while he held me, rubbing my back in slow circles.
I wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but when I finally pulled back from his hug, I could barely see through my raw, swollen eyes.
“Seriously,” I said with a hiccup. “What sort of alternate dimension Rick Evans are you?”
Dad’s chuckle rumbled against me.
“Sober Rick Evans,” he said.
I drew back and gave him a look.
“Okay,” he rolled his eyes. “Not sobertonight, unfortunately. But almost years of the program and therapy really sink in eventually.”
“I can see that.”
His smile faded and he lifted his thumb to wipe the tears from my cheeks. “I know you think Vivian and the girls get the best of me… but you, Hope. Youarethe best of me. Nothing can replace that. You grew into this amazing woman despite having me as a father. I’ll apologize as much as you need me to for that. But also, I’m not going anywhere, Lovebug. You might be all grown up, but you’ll always be my baby girl who loves gummy bears in her pancakes. And you’ll always have a home here in Austin.”
I squeezed his forearm, pulling my keys from my pocket. “C’mon, Dad. Let’s go home.”
Because he was right about everything he said. All of it—Austin was home.
For the first time in my life, I felt settled and complete in a city.
And it had nothing to do with the hunky country singer seeking to get in my good graces again.
Nope, not in the least.
Forty-Six
HOPE
