Page 93 of Count Your Lucky Stars
“Only a little,” he promised, holding a palm up as if to placate her.A littlewas still shitty when his savings were slim to start. “And I only had to do that because they’ve got me working fewer hours. Remember? I told you I scaled back.”
She nodded.
“I’ve got more money going out and less coming in and . . .” Dad swept a hand out. “Too much house for one person. I don’t need this much space and, to be honest, things have been getting a little tight at the end of the month. Much more of this and something was going to have to give, and I’ve got too much equity in the house to lose it in a short sale.”
A little tightandshort saledidn’t go together. “If money was tight, how come you didn’t say something? If you’d have told me, I could’ve—”
Her grip went slack and she nearly dropped her bottle, catching it around the neck. A dribble of beer ran down the back of her hand and she stared at it blankly.
She could’vewhat? Offered Dad money she didn’t have? Volunteered to move back home and help with the bills? She winced. Maybe there was more truth to what Margot had said than Olivia had first been able—or willing—to acknowledge. Wherewasher line? Did she even have one? Something told her the fact that she didn’t know was a problem. Anissueshe needed to address.
“I’ve got it under control, okay?” Dad said. “This is the best solution all around. Your mom and I refinanced when you were a kid, which set the clock back on the mortgage, but the property values have really skyrocketed in the past five years. I can sell, get the equity out of the house, and downsize into something smaller, with a more manageable monthly payment. Or, hell, I might even be able to buy something with cash.”
Olivia nibbled on her lip and glanced around the living room. Pencil marks that had never been scrubbed away marred the trim of the kitchen entry, each tiny tick capturing herheight over the years. If she craned her neck, she’d be able to see into the bathroom, with its god-awful toile wallpaper that Mom had picked out. “But you love this house.”
Dad’s eyes swept the room, lingering on the photos hung on the wall, family portraits and her old school pictures. “I do love this house.” He smiled softly and met her gaze steadily. “But, at the end of the day, it’s just a house. What I loved about it most were all the things that made it feel like home.” For a brief moment, the corners of his mouth tightened. He sucked in a deep breath and released it noisily, laughing while he did, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Your mom and you made it home, Livvy. It’s too much house for one person.”
Her eyelids felt hot and itchy, and there was a burn in the back of her throat that no amount of swallowing could relieve. This was the house she’d grown up in, the first home she’d known. But Dad was right; it was only a house, and it had been a long time since she’d considered it her home. If he wanted to sell, if it was the best solution—which it sounded like—she supported his decision. She just wished he’d kept in her in loop.
“Besides—I’ve been thinking of cutting my hours back even further.” At her frown, Dad chuckled. “Retiring.”
She laughed. “As long as you don’t plan on retiring to a clothing-optional community in Florida.”
Dad’s brows rocketed to his hairline. “You know I hate Florida.”
“And yet you have nothing to say about the clothing-optional community?” She narrowed her eyes, snickering when Dad merely looked confused. “I’m kidding. It’s just something Margot said.”
“Margot, hmm?” Dad leaned back in his recliner, crossing his ankle over his knee. He studied her for a minute, eyes narrowed and head cocked slightly to one side. “Must be nice, reconnecting with her after all these years. From what I heard on the phone yesterday, it sounds like you two managed to pick up right where you left off.”
She dropped her eyes to her lap and picked at her thumbnail. He had no idea. “You could say that.” When Dad said nothing, she bit back a sigh. “We kind of had a fight, actually. Right before I came here.”
“You want to talk about it?”
She swallowed around the sudden ache in her throat. “Not really.”
Dad hummed. “Would you feelbetterif you talked about it?”
She dropped her face into her hands and huffed. Damn his Dad logic. “Maybe? I don’t know. We—we both said some things and...” She took a deep breath and started over from the beginning. “Brad called me. He—”
“Why isBradcalling you?” Dad’s face wrinkled.
She pressed her fingers to the space between her brows. “Are you going to let me finish?”
Dad grumbled something under his breath, words she couldn’t quite make out, and waved for her continue.
“I—okay, he calls me sometimes. About silly little things. I answer because... I asked him to keep an ear out.” She cringed, dreading Dad’s reaction. “If he heard anything. You know. About you.”
Dad frowned. “Why would you do that?”
“Because.” She wiped her palms against her legs and stood,needing to move. She stepped around the coffee table and stood in front of the fireplace, wringing her hands in the sleeves of her hoodie, which were too long. “You tell me you’re fine, but what does thatmean? I worry, okay? And, I mean, clearly for good reason, since you decided to put the house up for sale without ever mentioning it to me.”
“I didn’t tell you because I didn’twantyou to worry.” Dad huffed. “And I had every intention of telling you, but then you mentioned this big wedding you were working on and I—I decided to wait until after.”
“We could’ve avoided this if you’d justtalkedto me. I worry because you leave things out and because you say things likeI’m fine.”
Dad threw his hands up. “Because Iamfine, Livvy. I am and—okay, I can admit, keeping you in the dark about the house was a mistake.” His brows rose, lips twisting in a wry smile. “Clearly. But when I say I’m fine, I wished you’d believe me. I have it all under control, okay?”
She knotted the excess fabric of her sleeves between her fingers and nibbled on the inside of her lip. “That’s what Margot said.”
