Page 79 of Home Sweet Home

He started forward to close the space between them, arms held out like he would touch her.

She was tempted to let him, but she stepped back.

“Just because I’m going back doesn’t mean there isn’t still something between us. I told you, you’d like LA. And Josh—”

“This is Josh’s home. He’s lived here his whole life. He still has a year of high school left.”

“There are these magical things called airplanes.”

“Because I have so much extra money to fly off to LA every other weekend to see you.” The sneer on Rich’s face when he saidwaitressflashed through her mind. “And after everything you’re doing to get back a job you hate, excuse me for not having a lot of confidence you’d be thrilled to admit your girlfriend is a waitress at a diner in a town that has more cornfields than people.”

It took West a long time to say something, unease growing in her with each second of silence. “That’s not fair. I haven’t done one thing to deserve that.”

“You care what people think,” Evie said. “More than you care about me, more than you even care about being happy. If it wasn’t true, you wouldn’t be going back.”

For a second, she almost felt sorry for him, worried she’d crossed a line, but then he laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Evie asked.

“You. Lecturing me on not quitting baseball.”

Evie opened her mouth, but he pressed on.

“Because you? Can’t move to LA, or even visit, because you can’t uproot Josh. Can’t open a bakery because someone believing in you and investing in your business is charity. Can’t go to college even though you already applied and got in once.”

“College costs money. A lot of it. And money might mean nothing to you, but it doesn’t to me. I’ve spent six years wiping down sticky tables and smiling at rude people, and I can’t buy ground beef for tacos without having heart palpitations. We don’t all have the luxury of earning millions of dollars for swinging a piece of wood at a piece of leather and running around in tight pants.”

“Right. Because no one has ever figured out how to go to college with no money. But that would mean owning up to something that I’m pretty sure you don’t want to admit.”

Evie was boiling over, a millimeter away from tipping over the edge. He’d prodded her and pinched her this way and that, looking for the soft spot to slide the knife in.

“You’re afraid—of trying and failing.”

“I’m not afraid.” The words came out of her mouth, but they were hollow, because Evie was pretty sure if they cracked open her bones, the very core of her, instead of marrow, there would be fear. Still, she wouldn’t let him see that he’d gotten to her. “Not all of us have had everything handed to us.”

“Because I got to the major leagues by lazing around my house watching TV, not because I spent every waking hour of my life with my face in the dirt, picking my ass up even when I didn’t want to.”

Her heart beat fast, as though she’d just sprinted ten laps around the field. She wrapped her arms around herself so tightly that her breathing was shallow and ragged, her lungs constricted. “Wait here.”

She went inside and grabbed her checkbook and a pen from the kitchen drawer. It took her a while to find it, buried underneath an old Pizza King takeout menu, because it wasn’t like she usually had money in her bank account. As she wrote West a check for three thousand dollars, her hand shook so hard, she wasn’t even sure the amount was legible.

After, she stomped through her house like an elephant, and she was halfway to the front door when she remembered something that she’d been too angry to see before. When she’d pulled into her driveway, she’d pulled her car up all the way to the garage door, because her driveway had been completely empty.

Her dad’s van wasn’t there.

Evie glanced toward the couch. The sheets were piled in a lump at the end. Her dad’s bag was gone. Her stomach started turning over as she made all the usual excuses—he had gone to Mel’s and would be back later, or maybe he was already on his way to Josh’s game. But she knew it wasn’t true. He’d been so weird that morning, shifty even, and if his stuff was gone, he was gone. She pushed it aside and made her way out the front door.

“What happened with my dad?” Evie asked.

West raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

“My birthday. I saw you through the kitchen window. It didn’t look good.” She could tell by the shadow that crossed West’s face that she’d hit the nail on the head. “He’s gone, and I want to know why. I’m a big girl. I can handle it, so just tell me.”

West glanced toward the driveway, and his eyes went wide when he saw the van wasn’t there. Just like Evie, he hadn’t noticed. His jaw clenched as he turned back to her. “He was asking me to invest in his business.”

“Did he tell you what it was?” Evie asking, trying to keep her chin held up high even though she was pretty sure she already knew the answer.

“He didn’t,” West said. “And the impression I got was that there wasn’t actually a business.”

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