Page 52 of Wanted You More

Is he trying to sellmeon this orhim? “It sounds like a good offer, Dad.”

He stares down at the eggs before standing taller and moving his eyes upward. “Would you be upset if I accepted the position? It’d also help with your tuition. They’d give you a discount for going after your first semester.”

I set the bacon down and brush crumbs off my hands. “If this is what will make you happy, then I think you should take it. You don’t need to worry about me.”

A sad smile curls half his lips. “Kiddo, I’m always going to worry about you. That’s what fathers do.” There’s a pause, then a small sigh. “But you’re growing up. Too fast, in my opinion. So, I know I’ll have to let go of that anxiety eventually.”

Something tells me that worry won’t disappear because I’m starting college. “It isn’t like I won’t be around. First years have to live on campus, but like you said. It’s not that far away. Plus, you’ll have Wolfe here still. Maybe he’ll go through his rebellion stage finally and keep you busy from worrying about me.”

He physically pales at the thought, making me snicker. “I really hope that’s not the case. Because I love you, Austen, but I don’t think I could handle another wild child like you.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Relax. You and I both know Wolfe is the good kid. He’ll be fine. Who knows, maybe your hair will stop going gray once I’m gone.”

Instantly, his hand goes to his hair. When he sees the teasing grin on my face, he shakes his head and drops his hand. “I never said you were the bad kid. Just a little more than I could handle at times. Your mom would have been better suited…” He lets the thought fade when he sees my smile waver. “Well, it doesn’t matter. If you’re truly okay with me taking the job, I’ll call them back.”

I take another bite of my bacon. “It’s fine. Seriously. You usually teach upper-level English classes anyway. It isn’t like we’ll be in the same room where I’ll have to live through some adolescent nightmare of us having a father-daughter moment in public like in a nineties movie. That’d be embarrassing.”

He deadpans, “You and Wolfe watch way too much TV.”

I stick my tongue out at him playfully. “I know you like it when we watch TV because it’s sibling bonding time.”

He doesn’t deny it. “Chances are, we’ll see each other around campus even if we don’t have a class together for a couple years. Chamberlin isn’t a big campus.”

I don’t comment on the class thing because I don’t know if I’ll make it past freshman year before deciding on a different route. So, I take the easy way out. “I’ll be sure to only avoid you half the time. We can make a secret signal of acknowledgment.”

Dad sighs in defeat. “Do you want French toast to go with your eggs, or waffles?”

“Depends,” I say. “Do we have whipped cream and chocolate syrup to go on top of said waffles?”

He gets out the mixture from the cupboard, a small smile on his face. “Waffles it is. Glad to know one thing hasn’t changed.”

Every Sunday, he used to make Wolfe and me waffles and let us pile them high with whatever toppings we wanted. Mom would shake her head at all the sugar we usually had but never told us we couldn’t eat it. It’s been a while since we’ve done that, and I can tell he misses it as much as I do.

I slide off my chair and head toward the fridge to get out all the toppings I want. Trying to make light of the situation, I say, “You’re never too old for cavities.”

He chuckles. “Go wake Wolfe up. That way, he can get these while they’re hot.”

Before I leave the kitchen, I stop at the doorway and turn to him. “Hey, Dad? Congrats on the job. I think it’ll be a good change.”

He stares at the waffle mix in front of him, pausing only a moment before nodding. “I think so too, sweetie.”

***

The steering wheelshakes in my hold as I drive down the interstate, making my brows pinch in confusion. “What the—”

Screeching when I hear a loudbangandthumpas my car swerves across the three lanes, I lock up and get the car over to the shoulder. Letting out a sharp breath as soon as it’s in park, I release my death grip on the wheel and turn off my music to process what just happened.

Heart pumping wildly in my chest, I check to see if there are any cars coming before grabbing my phone and climbing out into the dark night to examine the tires. My hands are still shaking when I turn on my phone’s light and groan at the blowout.

Swallowing down the panic, I nervously look up at the sky before focusing my attention back to the wheel. “Shit. What am I supposed to do? Think, think, think.”

Rounding the passenger side, I dig through my glove compartment, hoping there’s a card with information on it. I remember a long time ago when Mom was driving us home from school, she’d gotten a flat tire. She called some company using a card that she kept in the glove compartment. Triple AAA, I think.

But there’s no card.

Come to think of it, Dad told me he needed to renew it because the old one we each had expired last year.Great.

I stare at the time on my phone, my eyes hyper-focusing on the date in the corner of the screen.

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