I tug my coat’s belt tighter and tuck my chin against my neck to try and shield my face from the icy wind.

“I wish you’d come with me,” she says once we’re settled in the back.

Winsome is the last place I want to be right now. “I couldn’t leave Joe…”

“Is that who all those presents under your tree are for? I can’t believe you still have all those gifts under your tree.” Dina says as we leave my building.

“I’m waiting for Carter to go on tour before I take stuff over to his family,” I admit.

“You’re still not talking to him?”

“I can’t talk to someone who doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“I’m sorry we haven’t talked about this, I’ve been on the road so much,” she gives me a pained smile.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

My phone starts to vibrate in my pocket and I pull it out to check the caller ID.

Annoyance shoots through me when I see Fiona’s name on my screen. “Nope.” I say and hit decline.

It starts to ring again. I decline it, again.

She calls right back. “Answer it, Beth. It’s important” Dina says and I nod. That’s what I am afraid of.

I take a deep breath and accept the call. “Hello?”

“Beth,” she wails my name and then jagged, wrenching sobs fill my ear. My stomach lurches and my heart knocks against my chest. “Fiona, what’s wrong?” I ask and hold my breath, my heart already starting to ache from the film reel of disastrous possibilities that rush through my mind.

“Your father, he left me, “she croaks and I sag against the seat of the car.

“What happened?” I demand

“He’s gone.” I wince and pull the phone away from my ear when her sentence is followed by the trumpeting, watery sound of her blowing her nose.

“You’re getting a divorce?”

“No. He’s dead. He had an aneurism. He’s gone.”

My heart stops beating for a full three seconds. “No,” I gasp and Dina grabs my hand.

“Beth?”

“Yes, ”My voice is hoarse, my throat thick and my words come out as a whisper.

“I need you to come home. I know you are mad at him. But, I can’t do this alone. There are strangers in my house, I have no idea what they’re doing.” She sounds completely bereft and I swallow the scream that’s building and force myself to answer her

“Of course, I’ll come.”

“Oh, thank God.” She starts to sob again, quietly this time and there’s a helplessness and relief in her soft sobs.

Clearly, she’d expected me to say no. And why wouldn’t she? A wash of shame washes over me as I recall how I spoke to him that last time. He deserved it, but now that those are the last words I’ll ever say to him, I regret them.

In the years after my mother left, he only tolerated me. But, it was more than my mother had done. When she left, he could have sent us to my grandmothers. He didn’t because we were his children. Whether he liked it or not. “I’ll take the first flight I can get on. I’ll send you the details.”

“He loved you,

” Fiona says in a wavering voice.