Page 46 of Mine For The Winter

That she wasn’t doing it wrong.

She still longed for that. Because every day it felt like she was making bad decision after bad decision.

“So what documents do you want then?” her dad asked, interrupting her thoughts. “And why do you want them?”

Kelly let out a long breath. He was going to find out anyway. She couldn’t get a loan without him agreeing to it. But she’d wanted to hand it to him as a fait accompli. That way he wouldn’t argue.

Because every day the pain was getting worse and she couldn’t stand to see it.

“I have an appointment at the bank on Monday,” she told him. “They want me to bring the deeds in.”

Her dad blinked. “What kind of appointment?” There was a low note to his voice that reminded her of when she was a kid and had been acting up. He would walk in from work, his bar t-shirt still on, and give her the riot act.

“For a loan. For your surgery.”

He said nothing. Just looked at her and she knew he was pissed.

But she preferred that to him being in pain.

“No.”

“Dad, this can’t go on. We have to do something. You can barely walk right now. It’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to anybody else.”

“What does anybody else have to do with it?” he said, his brows knitting. “Keep your nose out of it. This help isn’t wanted.”

Her mouth fell open. “You think your knee doesn’t affect anybody else?”

“I’m the one in pain.”

“And I’m the one trying to run a house, a business, and bring up a kid all on my own. So maybe you could think about me and how much easier my life would be if you’d just have this damn surgery.” She stopped for a moment. She shouldn’t be angry at him. It wasn’t his fault his body was breaking down. Softly sighing, she took his hands in hers. “I can’t worry about you and everything else as well.”

“Then don’t worry about me,” he told her.

“Well I do. So tell me where the deeds are and let’s get this done.” She looked at him imploringly.

He swallowed then looked away. “I don’t have them.”

Kelly blinked. “Then where are they?”

“Not here.”

She exhaled heavily. “Okay then, we’ll get some copies made. I’ll explain to the bank manager on Monday. I’m sure it will be fine as long as they know.”

He looked up, his eyes slowly lifting to hers. “I don’t have them because I don’t own this place.”

His words were like a slap in the face. For a second she thought she’d heard him wrong. She had to have. He wouldn’t sell the tavern without telling her.

Still frowning, she looked at him, waiting for him to laugh. It was a joke, of course it was. Some kind of sick twist of humor.

“Of course you own it,” she said, her voice tight. “You’ve owned it for years.”

He shook his head. “I’ve beenrunningit for years. Had to sell it about six years ago. Remember when the roof needed replacing?”

“You filed a claim with the insurance for that.” Her head felt light. Dizzy.

“I lied. There was no insurance. I hadn’t paid it. It was sell the building or close the tavern.”

Her hand shook as she lifted it to cover her lips. She’d spent the last god knew how many years keeping this place going, because she thought it belonged to them.

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