Page 193 of Always Meant for You
“Your brother had a plan,” my father says. “He believed in you, Mabel. He always did.”
I nod. “I didn’t know he was going to ask me to join him.”
He tucks the note back into his pocket. “Maybe part of you did.”
I stare at the tomato. “Maybe,” I say, meeting his gaze, the space between us tightening with everything we lost and what we’re trying to rebuild.
“He would’ve been damned impressed with what you’ve done for Elverna. How you’ve pulled our town forward. He saw your talent and your potential before I did. And I’m sorry I didn’t see you, honey.”
I still don’t understand.
“But why expose me as Bella Mae? Why not call and ask me to help? Tell me what you found?”
His gaze drifts to the quiet edge of the market. “If Bella Mae hadn’t crumbled, would you have come home?”
I hesitate. “I want to say yes. But probably not.”
“And there’s Cal,” he adds. “He’s given everything to our town. But he can be hardheaded. He needed you.”
I touch the M charm around my neck. “I asked Jamie for help before that meeting. I told him I needed a sign.”
My dad’s eyes glisten. “I asked your mother for help that morning. Then I found the notebook. That’s why I posted to Bella Mae. That’s why we’re here. Because of Jamie and Carol.”
He shakes his head. “Sounds like something the old Young sisters would say, doesn’t it?”
I laugh through my tears and reach for his hand. His fingers curl around mine. “Thank you, Dad. For finding me. For believing in me.”
“Your mother and brother would be proud of the woman you’ve become. I certainly am.” His grip tightens, and neitherof us moves. The world falls away. We’re a father and daughter sitting on a bench. I stay shoulder to shoulder with the man I once thought I’d never understand, and in the quiet between us, I feel it. The beginning of something softer. Something whole. Something new.
I look down, then back at him. “I think everything’s unfolding the way Jamie and Mom would’ve hoped.”
My father gives my hand one last squeeze, then releases it. “Not quite yet. But it’s getting there.” A ghost of a grin pulls at the corners of his mouth.
I’m about to ask what he means when church bells strike the hour.
“Dad,” I say, wiping away the last of my tears, “I need to head back to the hotel to meet with Chelsea from the PR Agency. You should come with me.”
“We’ve already met Ms. Blaine and her partner, Lucce. When he told us how he spelled his name, he rattled it off with a pile ofc’s. Never heard of that before.”
I’m back feeling like I’m dreaming. “You’ve met Chelsea?”
“That’s right. We did.”
I squint at him. “What do you meanwe? Is Claudine here with you?”
“No,” he says, a knowing glint in his eye. “I came with someone else. He’s over there with Ms. Blaine and that Lucce fellow.”
“He?” I ask.
My father nods toward the far end of the market.
I look, and everything in me quiets. The crowd fades to a blur. The city hums and falls away. Sunlight glances off a metal pail of sunflowers, casting gold across the pavement.
Only one figure comes into focus.
One man.
My Cal.
