Page 92 of Love Off-Limits
Perry smiled, the frown lines in his forehead finally disappearing. “Then we figure it out together.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Olivia
Three days later, armed with Tyler’s video loaded onto my iPad and a batch of homemade orange rolls I’d spent the morning making with my mom, I took Dad for a drive out to the orchards. We hiked up to the lookout—the same spot I’d taken Tyler—and settled at the top in a pair of camp chairs I’d carried in on my back. It was less than a quarter-mile, but I’d known Dad would need to rest once we got to the top.
I’d already made plans with Perry for him to hike up and meet us in an hour so he could hike down with Dad. I trusted Perry’s size to better stabilize him should he need assistance.
Once we were settled, I pulled the orange rolls out of my backpack and offered him one.
His eyebrows went up. “You trying to butter me up?”
I smiled. “Absolutely. But if you aren’t interested . . .” I pulled the roll back and prepared to take a bite.
“Fine, fine, I’ll take it,” he said, his voice the typical combination of gruffness and sweetness that made him so special. His speech was improving with every day that passed. When he was tired, the slurring was worse, but with these short little sentences, he almost seemed like his old self.
I handed him the roll and pulled one out for myself. “Wasn’t there a time when Mom sold these in the farm store?”
Dad nodded as he took another bite. “Before she started making soap.”
“What changed? I bet people would love them.”
He gave me a little side-eye. “She started making soap. Couldn’t do both.”
I licked the frosting off my fingers and pulled out my iPad. “Daddy, I want you to watch something.”
“I’m not interested in TikTok, Livie.”
I grinned. It was possible I’d been spending a lot of time trying to get my parents interested in expanding Stonebrook’s social media to include TikTok videos. Penelope, at least, was born to be a star.
“I promise this isn’t TikTok.” I loaded the video and handed the iPad to my dad, hoping he didn’t notice the way my hands trembled. “Just push play,” I said.
He played the video and watched without saying a word. When it ended, he took a long, slow breath. “I wondered if you’d ever want to talk to me about it.”
“I’ve wanted to for a long time. But then it really hurt my feelings when you put Perry in charge instead of me. I thought maybe my business proposal was the reason you’d done it.”
He shook his head. “It was a good proposal. That wasn’t the reason why.”
I braced myself for whatever was coming. If it wasn’t the proposal, what was it?
He pressed his lips together, accentuating the deep lines that curved around his mouth. “Years ago, your mother had a much more active role in running the farm.”
I stilled. I’d never remembered Mom doing anything but working in her studio making soap. “Did she?”
He nodded. “She ran the store. She worked in the orchards. She planted the strawberry fields with nothing but her own two hands.” He handed me the iPad, which I dropped into my bag, and held out his hand, motioning for me to take it. I slipped my fingers into his, feeling the worn calluses that covered his palm. Those calluses felt like home.
“It was hard in the early days,” he said. “Money was tight. The work was hard. And your mother . .. she nearly broke because of it. She told me one day, she said, ‘Ray, this farm is your dream. You find a way to run it without working me to death, and you can keep it.’” He shot me a look. “I’ll never forget what she said next. ‘I will not let you sacrifice me on the altar of your passion.’”
“Wow,” I said slowly. “That’s... that’s big.”
“That’s when I built her studio,” Dad said. “I asked her what it would take to make her love this place, and she told me. Art and goats.”
I smiled. That sounded like Mom if anything did. “That’s also when I decided to build the pavilion and open the farm up to the public. I loved what this farm was before, Livie, but I had to do something. Something to keep your mother from feeling like she had to work so hard.” He lifted his shoulders. “And it worked. We started making more money. Hired more staff. But I’ll never forget what she said to me. ‘Business is never more important than people.’” He sniffed. “Than fam—” His words slurred, and he stopped and closed his eyes. “Than family,” he said, clearer this time.
I squeezed his hand. “I know, Daddy. I know. You always put us first.”
He looked at me. “You have a lot of your mother in you.” The way he said it made it seem like the fact worried him. “I don’t want this business to ruin you like it almost did her. I don’t want you to have to worry about how you’re going to pay for things, how you’re going to make it stretch. I put Perry in charge because I don’t want the stress to break you.”
