Well, not anymore anyway. I used to miss her with my whole heart even though I couldn’t remember her. When my breasts first came in and my period started or when I first realized I had a crush on my best friend’s brother, there had been nothing I wanted more than a mother to discuss it all with.
She never came, though. The only thing she’d left me with were her looks. The blonde hair, hazel eyes, and curvy figure.
Dad did his best to play both roles, and he’d done a darn good job of it. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible, but after he’d recovered from his fight with the cancer, his affections had grown tenfold.
We’d become closer than ever, and I’d finally let my childish wishes for a mother I’d never had go. I knew he was eternally grateful to me for taking care of him during that time. Instead of pining for a mom to be there for me while I was there for him, I focused all my energy on trying to show him that he had nothing to be grateful to me for.
He’d been taking care of me my entire life. The least I could do was to do the same for him in his hour of need. I’d also tried to squash the guilt he felt over feeling like I’d missed out on the best years of my life because of him.
Time and time again, he’d told me that my senior year and the few years after were supposed to have been the prime of my life. He blamed himself for the fact that I’d missed out on it because of hospital visits and having to work so much to pay the bills. We were still in debt for some of them, despite both of our best efforts.
That was why I lived above the Tourism Center and he lived in this tiny apartment. We tried to save every penny we could to cover what we still owed, and besides, neither of us needed anything bigger.
I took a sip of my wine when we sat down on his threadbare couches, smiling at him where he sat in his favorite armchair across from me. “How are you? Still feeling okay?”
“Better than ever,” he said easily. I searched his eyes for any trace of a lie, but there was nothing there.
The part inside me that was always braced for bad news from him breathed a sigh of relief. “How’s work treating you?”
“Same as always. I can’t complain about it, though.” He sipped from his glass of water, his eyes lighting up in amusement over some thought he had. I didn’t have to wait long before he shared it. “Dan told me he saw Mildred in town this afternoon. Apparently, he saw her smiling.”
He dragged the last word out, and I laughed as I arched my eyebrows. “Are you sure it was her? I’m not convinced she still has the muscles required to form a smile.”
Dad chuckled. “She’s an interesting one. That’s for sure. You could teach her a thing or two about being friendly.”
“If she was willing to learn, I’m sure she would’ve by now,” I grumbled, but I couldn’t help the corners of my lips tipping up. “I haven’t given up on her, though. One day, I’ll see her smiling and it’ll be aimed at me.”
“That’s my girl.” He shrugged. “If you can’t do it, no one can. Are you hungry yet?”
“I’ll put the lasagna in to warm up. We can eat when it’s ready.” I got up to do just that.
The furnishings in Dad’s house were simple, practical, and well used. There were only a few photographs of us and a clock against his wall. I’d tried to brighten things up a little a couple of years ago by adding some red and navy touches with cushions and a nautical painting I’d had a local boy make for him, but that was the only color in here.
It still felt homey, though. Even if the lasagna barely fit in his oven. I took a deep breath when I uncovered it, taking in the scent of melted cheese and a hint of garlic. The salad was in a separate container, and I took that out before sliding the dish into the oven.
Dad and I laughed while we waited for it to warm through, joking around and talking while we set his round dining table. “Have you agreed to go out with the Larsen boy yet?”
I shook my head, giving him a pointed look. “I already told you that wasn’t going to happen. He’s six years younger than me and asks out every girl in town twice a week.”
“Can’t blame him for trying.” He grinned. “You’ve got to give it to him. He has balls the size of melons to keep going after what he wants.”
“I never want to hear you say balls again.” I grimaced, and Dad laughed.
“I can’t help it if I admire his tenacity.” He sighed but his eyes were still lit up. “Maybe if I’d had some of that, I’d have found myself some company around here.”
“You can always ask Mildred out. I’m quite sure she’s available.” I winked just before I heard the timer I’d set go off. “Although if it’s company you’re after, you might be better off talking to your TV.”
“Hey, I have friends on those shows,” he protested. “You mean to tell me they can’t hear me when I’m yelling at them not to open the door?”
“You’re still watching those awful horror shows, then?” As I asked the question, I tossed him a grin over my shoulder and headed for the oven. “There’s always something better on than that.”
“I tried one of those romantic comedies you like to watch the other day.” He crinkled his nose while I put the mitts on and slid the dish out, carrying it over to the table. “I’ll tell you one thing, kiddo. It’s a good thing we’re not sharing a television anymore. I could tell you what was going to happen right from the beginning.”
“And you can’t tell when the character heads for the door and you know there’s a masked man in the woods outside?” I said, completely deadpan as I placed the food down in the center of the table. “Happily ever afters have to be better than having your throat brutally slashed open.”
He released a low guffaw, shaking his salt-and-pepper hair. “We’re going to have to agree to disagree. I quite liked the town the movie was set in. Some place in Alaska no one ever heard of.”
I snapped my fingers after sitting down. “Oh, I know the one you’re talking about. They’re also only reachable by plane, right?”
“Right. Although they allow cars and trucks and such. Hooligans.” He shook his head like he couldn’t quite believe anyone would do such a thing. “You ask me, we’ve still got it better.”
“Damn right we do.” I grinned and held up my wine to toast with him. “Dig in. Mrs. Dunn might just slash our throats like in one of your movies if she found out we let it go cold.”
Dad laughed. “She’s eighty-six, honey. I’m sure we could take her in a fight.”
“She’s fit for eighty-six,” I said. “Light on her feet, too. I’d also prefer not to have to fight her.”
“You’re right.” He served us each a massive helping while I dished up our salads. His eyes sparkled when they met mine. “It’d be worse than a fight if she refused to serve us her food in the future.”
“So much worse,” I agreed. Mrs. Dunn ran a homecooked meal takeout service. She was the only one in town who did and it was the one thing Dad and I ever treated ourselves with. “I don’t think we’d make it if she cut us off.”