Page 63 of Under Pink Skies

Lucas’swordsfromthediner rang in my head as we walked the short distance from Watley’s to Watford General.

Your Dad’s going to need you a lot in the coming months, Abbie.

Rationally, I knew he meant well. He worked in the addiction recovery space. He knew just as well as I did that recovery wasn’t linear. But it didn’t land as the encouraging, hopeful statement he surely intended for it to be.

Instead, it sent me spiraling into doubt about how all of this was going to work. If my dad got sober, what would that mean for Watford General? Could I finally start my business? Would I be able to move away?

That was a dream. I knew it was an unrealistic dream, because recovery was hard. If my dad was serious about getting sober and making amends, that meant years of hard work, and I’d need to be here to support him while he did that. There would be no running away with Connor, or doing something truly ridiculous, like finding a plot of land near Winding Road so I could be close to him.

Those were childish ideations. I was needed here. It would be months still before my father was ready to take over the daily operations of the store, and there was the IRS to worry about.

There would be no leaving for me. Not now, at least.

We arrived at the storefront after a few brief minutes. I fished my key out from the bottom of my purse, unlocking the front door and stepping inside.

“Dad?” I called out, throwing my purse onto the counter. “It’s Abbie. I was just coming by to check on you.”

No response came. Unease prickled my skin, and I turned toward Connor.

“I’m going to run upstairs and check on him,” I said, even as my chest constricted. I silently prayed that I wouldn’t find him dead. I could handle it if he started drinking again. I would manage it, just like I always did.

I climbed the stairs one at a time, keeping my gaze on the step ahead. I tried hard to keep my breathing even, and as the loft opened before me, I was stunned to see that it was clean.

There were no empty or half-drunk bottles of beer littering the floor. Someone had clearly swept and mopped the place. The bed made up with clean linen sheets, and there was no dust on his nightstand. My lips parted in surprised as I took the last step into the loft space. I took another step forward and something crinkled beneath my foot. I crouched down to investigate and frowned when I saw it was a picture.

I picked it up and gasped in surprise. It was a crinkled picture of my mom, the one my dad always kept in his wallet. It was a picture of her from the early days of their marriage. She was grinning at the camera, her eyes creasing at the corners, radiating joy like she always did. I looked around the room once more, but his wallet was nowhere in sight. I set the picture back down on the freshly made bed, assuming it had just fallen out. If he’d also cleaned out his wallet, it made sense that he may have forgotten to put the picture back inside.

I took one last look at the space and tried to stomp out the hope taking root in my chest.

Maybe this was it. The moment where things got better.

“He’s not here, but his space is clean,” I said as I descended the stairs.

“That’s good,” Connor said, giving me a reassuring smile.

“Do you have plans for today?” I asked, fiddling with the daisy necklace against my collarbone.

“I just want to spend time with you,” Connor said.

I considered this for a moment. The image of my mom’s smiling face appeared in my mind once more.

“Want to go for a hike? It’s only fair, since I made you sit throughThis is Us.”

Connor groaned at the memory.

“I will accept time in nature as your apology.”

I smiled and reached for my purse and his hand.

We arrived at the base of Westfall Peak, aptly named for its position west of Watford, and because it was one of the small mountain peaks that boxed the town in. I hopped out of Lucy and grabbed my jacket. It wasn’t cold this time of year, but there was enough of a chill in the air that I wanted my windbreaker.

“I know it’s probably hard for you to imagine staying here,” I said. I wasn’t sure why I said it. I hadn’t intended on striking up a conversation until we hiked deeper into the woods.

“I have terrible memories of Watford, that’s not a secret. But none of those things have to do with you,” Connor said with a small shrug. “I don’t think I’ll ever find the words to explain what your presence in my life means to me. I cantryto imagine staying in Watford, and it’s because of you it’s even on the table.”

I swallowed tightly and pulled my phone from my back pocket. I put it in airplane mode. Connor raised his eyebrows at me.

“I assumed you were taking yours with you,” I said, putting my phone in the glove box and locking it there.

---