How (Not) to Fall in Love(89)

I closed my eyes, wishing I could swim in the warmth of his voice. God, I wanted to be home. To be with him. “Lucas,” I breathed. “You’re at our house?”

He chuckled. “Unfortunately. That J.J. guy is a trip. I want to punch him but Charlie won’t let me.” He sighed and his voice dropped. “You sure you can handle this? Driving him home by yourself?”

“Yes,” I whispered. I glanced at Dad, who didn’t appear to be listening to my conversation at all. Toby lay stretched across his lap, blissed out to be with alpha dog again.

I turned away from Dad, facing out my window. “Lucas. I’m so sorry about the way I left.”

“Me too,” he said. “Sorry I went all King La’ul on you.”

I laughed as I pictured the temperamental king in the Firestorm Fairies world throwing a tantrum. “You did, didn’t you? Storming around and slamming doors. All you were missing was smoke shooting out of your head.”

He sighed in to the phone. “Yeah, well…I guess it’s the Lancelot thing. I’m sure your TV shrink has a theory about it.” He lowered his voice. “So why haven’t you called me? You called everyone else.”

“I tried once but got your voicemail. Reception sucks up here. Besides, your text didn’t sound like you wanted to talk to me.”

He snorted. “You should’ve seen the ones I typed but didn’t send.”

I bit my lip. “So…am I forgiven?”

“Maybe,” he said. “Depends on what you got me for Christmas.”

I laughed and Dad jerked next to me.

“Look, I need to go,” I said. “The sooner I do, the sooner I’ll be home.”

“I’m worried about you driving that truck in the snow. You didn’t bother to check the forecast before you took off, did you?” I heard the struggle in his voice as he tried to mask his frustration and worry.

“Is smoke shooting out of your head, King La’ul?”

He snorted in my ear. “You’re the most stubborn person I know.”

“More stubborn than Pickles?”

“At least she lets me help her.”

It was my turn to snort. “She’s four years old, Lancelot, of course she does. Just give it a rest. I’m on my way home, I promise.”

Lucas’s voice faded as he talked to someone in the background, then he returned to our conversation. “Charlie says to call again as soon as you and your dad eat.”

“I will.”

Silence stretched between us, then, “Drive safe, Shaker Girl.”

“I will. Promise.”

I hung up and looked at Dad, who still stared out the window while petting Toby. “Be right back. Don’t move.” I jumped out of the truck and ran back to the campfire. “I forgot to tell you guys. The sheriff’s on his way to chase you away. You need to get out of here. Fast.”

Claire tilted her head at me. “Awesome. Thanks.”

Earlobes saluted me from where he still lay on the ground. “Preacher’s got a cool kid.”

I ran back to the truck and peeled out onto the road.





Chapter Thirty-Five


As we headed back toward the main highway, the sheriff’s SUV passed us going the opposite direction, lights flashing. I watched in my rearview mirror as he pulled off toward the henge.

“I hope they put the fire out and got out of there in time. They seemed pretty cool,” I said.

Dad didn’t say anything.

“How long were you traveling with them?”

Silence.

“We’re going to get some food. You must be hungry.” His face was so much thinner than normal. What had he and the hippies been living on, anyway?

“What happened to your car?” Maybe if I asked the right question, he’d respond.

“Sold it. In California. That’s where I bought the van. And met the kids.”

We were back on Main Street. Most of the storefronts were dark, but light spilled onto the street from Daisy’s.

“I’ll stay in the car,” Dad said when I turned off the engine.

Maybe that was a good idea. He did look and smell like a bum. “Okay,” I agreed. “You stay here with Toby. What do you want to eat?”

He looked like I’d asked him what flavor poison he preferred. “Not hungry.”

“Not hungry? But Dad, when’s the last time you ate?”

He ignored me, dropping his head to focus on petting Toby. Whatever. I jumped out of the truck and slammed the door behind me. He wasn’t making this easy.

Daisy looked up when I walked in. “You’re back.” She smiled. “How was the Stonehenge?”

I plastered a smile on my face. “Cool.”

“Did you run into any trouble with those hippies?”

Only one of them. “Nope. They were harmless.”

She nodded. “Good.” She looked out the door toward my truck. “Is that your dad out there? Why don’t you tell him to come inside?”

I pretended to look for something in my bag. “He’s tired. We’ll just take our food to go.” I ordered two club sandwiches and sat on a stool to wait. My appetite had returned with a vengeance.

This rescue mission wasn’t going as planned. Once I found Dad he was supposed to take charge. Even though his postcards had been worrisome, I’d still convinced myself that once he saw me, live and in person, everything would fall into place. He’d snap out of his fog, and Tri Ty would take over. But instead I’d found someone who barely resembled the dad I knew. He was in no condition to take charge of anything. I shredded a napkin while I waited for our food. I couldn’t wait to get home. To see everyone.