Page 98 of One Southern Summer

“That’s fair.” The ice cubes rattled in his glass as he took another sip.

She smoothed her hands over her plaid pajama bottoms. Her pulse fluttered in her throat. What if she wasn’t prepared for his answer?

“I’m an addict.”

Her breath hitched in her chest. Of all the scenarios she’d conjured, addiction had never been on her list of reasons why he’d leave.

He leaned forward and set his glass on the coaster. “Been sober for sixteen months.”

“Wow, that’s great.” She twisted the hem of her T-shirt around her fingers. “I had no idea.”

“I was a coward. Started using occasionally when I was out with my buddies on the weekends. We played in a garage band, and thought we were hot stuff. We weren’t.” He gave a nervous laugh. “Your mom was home a lot by herself with you girls. She told me I needed to clean up my act. I didn’t listen. She was patient and gave me more chances than I deserved, but at the end of the day I made my choice. It was the wrong one. I left and never looked back.”

“Where have you been all this time?”

“I’ve held down a job as a roadie with a professional touring musician. Addiction is part of the lifestyle. That’s no excuse, I’m just saying that’s the way it is. I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years to a variety of health conditions. So I finally decided it was time to make some changes.”

She offered a gentle smile. “That’s good.”

“Part of addiction recovery is making amends to the people we’ve hurt. So I promised myself that before the end of the year, I would reach out to you, your sisters and your mama.” He drew a long breath. “And Nana.”

“Oh, my.” Avery grimaced. “That’s going to be a tough conversation.”

“Yeah I’m feeling pretty anxious about that.” His mouth tightened. “I’m thankful she’s still alive. One of my biggest regrets is that—”

He paused, fighting for control of his emotions.

Her heart ached for him. What a brave decision, coming back home to face his family.

“It’s too late for me and my dad to reconnect. I regret that I left Camellia and we never spoke to one another again.”

“Granddaddy was a good man,” Avery said. “He loved you very much.”

Dad nodded then scrubbed his hand over his face.

She blinked back tears. “I’m glad you’re here, Dad. I just hate that it took you so long.”

He raised his head and met her gaze. Tears slid down his gaunt cheeks. “I know.”

She stood and crossed the room.

Slowly, he pushed to his feet. “I’m so sorry, sweetie. Can you forgive me?”

“Absolutely.” She stepped into his embrace. Tears flowed freely.

“I love you, Avery.”

She wept into the cotton fabric of his T-shirt. “I love you too, Daddy.”

Well, her cheese must’ve finally slid off its cracker.

That was the only logical explanation for the hallucinations.

Maribelle squinted. Avery and a middle-aged man who bore a striking resemblance to her son stood near her recliner. He had less hair, and his face looked sort of skinny, but she’d know those blue eyes anywhere. The prominent shape of the chin too. Even now after all these years, he still favored his daddy.

“Mrs. Lansing.” The woman who checked on her in the afternoons leaned closer. Her pleasant smile and warm eyes made Maribelle want to comply. Or maybe it was the fresh chocolate chip cookies she snuck in every now and again. “Wake up. You have visitors.”

“I’ll wait outside,” Avery whispered then squeezed his arm and left the room.

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