Page 88 of Lost and Lassoed

“Small fucking towns,” I muttered.

“Small fucking towns,” Hank agreed with a chuckle.

“I was just looking into a few of my options, but it didn’t work out,” I said. “But I’ve been thinking…Could I make part of the garage into a workspace? If you’re okay with my moving some of the instruments back inside? We could rearrange the spare room to hold them—might be easier for you to play that way,” I said.

“You can do whatever you want, Teddy. What’s the workspace for?” My dad was grinning. I loved his grin.

“My clothes.”

“Your clothes,” my dad repeated, nodding for me to keep talking.

“That I’m going to make,” I said. “I love clothes, Dad. I want to make them—I want to ship my designs all over the world, with my own name on them. I used to sell on that makers’ platform, but I stopped when Cloma started letting me put my clothes in the store and on the boutique’s site. It felt too hard to keep up with, with everything else going on. But now…I want to do it again. I don’t know if anything will come of it, but I think I owe it to myself to try.”

My dad’s eyes were glassy. Our chairs were close enough that he was able to reach out and put his hand on the side of my neck. “If anyone can make it, it’s you, Theodora Andersen. I have no doubt.”

“You have to believe in me,” I said, rolling my eyes to keep all the things I was feeling at bay. “You’re my dad.”

“And a damn proud one.”

“You’re getting soft in your old age,” I said.

“Maybe.” He leaned back in his chair again. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about—a few things, actually.”

“If you must,” I said with a wave of my hand.

“First,” he said, “I want you to know that I’m okay—that I am the luckiest man alive to have a daughter like you who has made so many sacrifices to make sure that I’m taken care of. But I need you to know…that I don’t expect you to be here forever. I’m scared I’ve let you do so much for me that you’ve forgotten to take care of yourself. And if that’s the case, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“Dad, no—”

“Let me finish. What I’m trying to say is: If you wanted to move out, or go somewhere new, I would be okay.Wewould be okay.”

My dad’s words hit me like a kick from a horse. I couldn’t tell if it was in a good way or a bad way or a both way. “Are you kicking me out?” I asked, with a tinny laugh. It was the only thing I could think to say—to do.

“Never,” Hank chuckled. “But if your life takes you places outside the walls of this little red house, I’ll be okay. I need you to know that. Leaving this little house doesn’t mean you’re leaving me behind. It just means you’ve got something—or someone—worth chasing.”

I nodded, trying to absorb what he was saying. This aging rock star never missed a beat, even the notes of fear that I hadn’t heard within myself.

“And second,” my dad continued. “I think it’s time you admitted to yourself and everyone else that you’re in love with Gus—the two of you making moony eyes at each other when he and Riley came over was enough to make me want to puke.”

“Jesus Christ, Dad,” I said. “Have you ever heard of pullingpunches?” I put my head in my hands. Was I really that transparent?

“Nope,” he said. “And I don’t think she has either.” She? I looked up.

Emmy had just pulled in to our driveway and was getting out of her truck—she’d always had excellent timing. Hank got up. “I’ll give you two a minute,” he said, and started toward the house.

When he and Emmy crossed paths, Emmy hugged him,and they exchanged a few words before she continued toward me.

“Hey,” she said when she was close.

“Hey,” I responded. I set my plate on the grass and stood. Emmy and I made eye contact and then made our way to each other and collided in a hug. We held each other the way we always had.

“I’m sorry, Teddy,” Emmy said in my ear.

“I know,” I said.

“No,” she said, pulling back. “Let me say this.” Emmy took a deep breath. “I think you are miraculous, Teddy. I think that your existence—the way you care and fight and love and live—is a miracle. There is no one else like you, and I am so sorry for making you feel like I didn’t know that—that I didn’t see that. I’m sorry for treating you like I didn’t know you the way that I do. I know that you feel things deeply, that you would do anything for the people you care about, and that you love hard.” Emmy hugged me again. “And I feel like the absolute worst best friend in the world for not seeing that you were hurting. Your feelings about the way our friendship has shifted—they all make sense. I just never noticed because I was still your number one, but I also got to be Luke’s. And when I thought about it that way, I realized that you shouldhave that, too. When you told me about you and Gus, I wasn’t mad that you two were…”

“Bumping uglies?” I chimed in.

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