Page 101 of Hopeless Romantic
“I came home early. What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He got quiet. “Are you still angry with me?”
“I’m not angry, Dad. Just really, really sad,” she admitted.
Jeffery studied her, then shook his head. “Nope. Your nostrils are flared, your forehead furrowed, and you’re doing that thing with your hands.” She looked down to find them strangling the sheet. “You’re angry.”
“Okay, fine, I’m angry.”
“With me,” Jeffery prompted.
“You’re high on the list,” she said.
Guessing by the way her dad forced himself to maintain contact, he knew this. And it made him uncomfortable, but if things were going to change—and, God help her, things needed to change—then there would be a lot of uncomfortable talks in their future.
“I needed you to be the parent this weekend, Dad. So did Tommy. But instead, you got in your own head and hid in your studio.”
Wasn’t that the same thing Levi had accused her of doing? Getting into her head and, instead of being the person he needed her to be, hiding behind her family dynamics.
“I needed a moment,” he admitted. “It wasn’t right, but there it is. I needed a moment.”
“He punched through a window!”
“I didn’t know that. Until later. I just assumed he walked out the front door.”
“Because you locked yourself in your room. So when he couldn’t get hold of you, he went looking for me. And my whole life blew up, because I dropped everything, like I always do, and this time it hurt more people than just me.”
Jeffery leaned against the headboard next to her, his expression sad yet hopeful. “I need to stop doing that then, don’t I?”
Beckett felt fresh tears forming. “Yes, you do. I need to stop letting you do that. It’s not all on you.”
“Actually, it is. I’m the parent. It’s time I acted like it.” He took her hand in his. “So I came home early, made my son breakfast, and took him to school. I turned the radio to the ballgame highlights, and Tommy told me he’d prefer to listen to the Beatles. My son prefers the Beatles.”
Beckett’s throat tightened. “You’re a good dad. And I know what I’m talking about, because you raised me.”
Jeffery leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “We raised each other, kiddo. But you’re grown up now. Ready for a life of your own.”
She wasn’t sure if she was ready, but if her dad could find the strength to try harder, then so could she.
“Yeah, Dad,” she whispered, hoarse with emotion. She rested her head on his shoulder. “But you don’t need to rent out my room just yet. I’ve decided to expand my business, hire an assistant, and the rent here is pretty hard to beat.”
“Thank God,” Jeffery said. “I might look wise and capable in my new slacks, but I’m going to need help brushing up on my adulting skills. We can start with how to use the stove and work our way up, because I don’t think frozen pizzas are going to cut it.”
For the first time since waking up, she really looked at her dad. Dressed in slacks, a sophisticated sweater set, and . . . She rubbed her eyes. “What happened to your hair?”
“Tommy and I stopped by the barber on the way to school. We both got a trim, and I let him pick my new cut. Do you like it?” He beamed, and Beckett felt her chest squeeze.
“You look great, Dad,” she said quietly.
“You mean I look like a father who’s got this whole adulting thing down.” Jeffery winked. “And if I could offer some fatherly advice to my strong, self-reliant, and sometimes prideful daughter, it would be that the best parts of life are rarely lived alone. Where I’ve relied too much on others, you’ve gone the opposite way. Maybe we can help each other find a healthy balance.”
“I’d like that,” she whispered, knowing that was exactly what Levi had been trying to give her. Balance. Support. The space she needed to find her way.
He’d been willing to be patient with her situation, take what she could give, and not pressure her for more. So she took, and the moment he needed something in return, she’d used his understanding nature against him. Blaming a conflict in priorities was easier than risking him walking away, because she wasn’t special enough to stay. She’d been there before and barely found her way back. Convinced herself that she wouldn’t survive that kind of blow again. Not from Levi.
But she didn’t want to just survive. She wanted to live. And she wanted to live her life with Levi. All she needed was to be bold enough to find out if he felt the same.
Oh, and to admit that she needed his help. Again. Only this time, that didn’t seem so scary.
Last note to self: Erase never, ever, ever from your vocabulary.
