Page 100 of Take Me Home

June cast him an uncharacteristically sympathetic look. “That’s quite an impasse.”

“Did you come up here just to make me feel worse?”

“No. I’m really sorry. I like Hazel. I like you with Hazel.” She nodded at the model. “Do you need help with that?”

The wordnowas right there on the tip of his tongue, but he took a breath. “Actually, yeah, I do.”

—

At lunch, Hazel’s father called the landline.

Ash took the wireless receiver down the hall to the bathroom and locked himself in, saying carefully, “Hi, Mr. Elliot. Hazel’s not here.”

There was a long pause. “Okay. I understand you feel protective of my daughter.”

“I’m not covering for her. She’s really not here,” he said. His jaw and fists clenched with a surge of bitterness. If Dan hadn’t pushed him to explain Hazel’s outburst at the party, she would still be here.

But the fight left him as soon as Dan said, “I’m sorry if I put you in a tough position last night. I was—Iam—” He cleared his throat. “Would you pass along that I’d like to talk when she’s ready?”

“Wish I could.” Ash rubbed his face. As much as he blamed Dan for last night and for all the mistakes he’d made with Hazel before, Ash heard the man’s weariness and guilt and found a pocket of compassion amidst the anger. Ash wasn’t blameless, either. “She’s…not answering my messages right now.”

“Oh.”

“I guess she didn’t go home?”

“No.”

Ash sat on the edge of the tub. He’d tried not to imagine Hazel behind the wheel as upset as she’d been this morning.

“Do you have any idea where she might have gone?”

Ash squeezed his neck. “Back to her apartment? Maybe Houston to see her old roommate?”

“All right. I’ve got to make some more calls then.”

“Sir? Could you…”

“I’ll let you know when I find her.”

Ash gave him his cell number, and they hung up.

When he brought the phone back to the kitchen, his mother had cleared the dishes. He could hear June’s lilting voice belting out instructions to walk like an elephant, then a series of big and small thudding steps tromping through a back bedroom. He raised his eyebrows at his parents, Leanne, and Laurel, sitting in silence.

“June told us you and Hazel had a fight. I’m sorry,” his mother said.

“I don’t really want to talk right now.”

She pulled out his chair. “Tough. Sit.”

Reluctantly, he did.

His father slid a check across the table to him, nodded to the twins, who fidgeted in their seats.

“What is this?”

“The money you gave us,” Leanne said.

“We’ve been earning it back,” Laurel added. “And we’re sorry we lied to you.”

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