Page 8 of To Belong Together
Mom didn’t believe in sharing burdens, so she wouldn’t have told Erin about worsening symptoms. In fact, Mom would’ve gone out of her way to keep Erin from learning about any increased struggle. The regularity with which Mom called off visits could mean Dad was doing a lot worse than Erin had seen.
The doctor had warned them that an early onset of symptoms often paired with a quick decline, but she’d hoped he’d prove to be the exception.
She lingered another moment, then continued to the door and patted her pocket to locate her keys.
“How was he?” Mom had followed. Her blue eyes seemed to droop with fatigue. Emotional and physical, if Erin had to guess.
“He’s getting worse.”
Mom fiddled with the ends of her pale brown hair, which she kept even shorter than Erin’s wavy pixie cut. “He’s still in the middle stages.”
Sneakers padding over the carpet drew Erin’s attention back to the hall.
Dad appeared. “Oh. Erin.”
At his surprise, the coffee Erin had drunk that afternoon to get her through the last job at the shop turned to acid in her stomach. But at least he’d remembered her name.
She celebrated that with another smile. “Hi, Dad.”
Mom rubbed his shoulder. “Erin’s leaving. Why don’t you say goodbye?”
He came forward and gave her a hug that smelled of soap and the trusty cardigan he wore all winter long. “Love you, kid.”
“Love you too, Dad.” She gave him an extra squeeze before stepping back.
He retreated to Mom’s side and stood with his arm around her shoulders. With them together like this, she couldn’t press Mom for information.
God, You could restore him. Please. I need him.
Mom lifted a hand in a wave. “Thank you again. I know you’re busy.”
“Not too busy to help. I want to be involved.”
“Of course you do, dear. You’re a great help.”
She wasn’t, because Mom wouldn’t allow it. But the objection jammed like a rusty bolt.
Erin had moved there, but being nearby didn’t give her a way to fix this and regain her special relationship with Dad.
Maybe that explained Mom’s effort to keep her out of Dad’s decline. Maybe Mom had recognized sooner than Erin that the more time she spent with him, the more heartbroken she’d be when he was gone.
3
“Right here’s fine.” John motioned to an open spot at the edge of the Hirsh Auto Repair parking lot and unbuckled his seatbelt. If Philip’s SUV had drawn attention, Gannon’s certainly would, and Erin might connect the dots back to John’s association with the band.
Since it had occurred to him, the idea of someone taking a chance on him without knowing about his money had only grown more attractive. Especially if that someone was the spunkytechnicianwith the dimples and sparkling eyes.
Although, he’d only see her today if God arranged it. John hadn’t requested another test drive. Erin’s word that she’d fixed the squeak was good enough, and his pride hadn’t healed from last time.
“Adeline said she brought up Tara.” Gannon disobeyed John’s instructions and pulled farther into the lot.
“I’ll let another guy be her rebound.” He motioned to a parking spot that would’ve left a row of cars between the heavily customized SUV and the lobby windows.
Gannon ignored him again. “That’s harsh, coming from a guy a few months off his own breakup.” He stopped the vehicle directly in front of the glass door to the lobby. “Nicole was a nightmare. Tara’s nice.”
Was that the best endorsement Gannon could offer? He unbuckled, and a warning ding sounded. “Try with more enthusiasm next time.”
“No, I mean—”
