Page 50 of Always Meant for You
A door slams.
“No need to holler, Mabel Ruth,” Elias calls.
Mabel jerks back, snapping the thread between us. She turns toward him, her voice catching. “Dad!”
He stands in the middle of the dusty driveway, arms crossed, work overalls creased and sun-faded. The brim of his cap casts a shadow across his face, but there’s no mistaking the way his eyes track every move we make.
She grabs the casserole, swings open the truck door, and steps down with more grace than I’d expect in heels.
“The Young sisters sent dinner,” she says brightly.
I move to the truck bed and unload her bags, then stack them gently by the porch.
My pulse hasn’t eased.
I scoop the kitten’s crate from the cab, then grab the pharmacy bag and make my way over.
“Here you go, Mr. Muldowney,” I say, offering the meds.
Elias eyes the bag, shoves it in his pocket, then looks at his daughter.
I check my watch. “I’m sure you’ve got catching up to do, and I’ve got a meeting to prep for.”
“Hold on, Cal,” Elias says. “I’ve got something to say, and it involves both of you.”
Mabel frowns. “What does Cal have to do with me coming home?”
“That’s what I want to discuss,” Elias replies. “You’re always welcome here, Mabel Ruth. This is your home.”
I see her shoulders ease, not fully, but enough to mark a shift. Her fingers loosen around the casserole dish.
“Thank you, Dad. I appreciate that.”
But Elias doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. The silence stretches until it sharpens.
“There is one rule,” he continues.
The line lands flat. Final. No explanation offered.
Mabel’s posture stiffens again. “And what rule is that?”
He doesn’t answer right away. His eyes move from her to me, then settle back on her.
He’s as unreadable as a stone.
“As long as you’re here, Mabel Ruth, you work for Cal.”
Chapter Ten
MABEL
Has my father lost his mind?
I glance between him and Cal, waiting for one of them to admit this is a bad joke. A misunderstanding. A punchline no one bothered to deliver.
I came home for quiet, for space to clear my head. And now my father, who hasn’t even let me step through the front door, is already laying down conditions.
This is too much.
