Count Your Lucky Stars (Written in the Stars, #3)(80)

Panicking wouldn’t solve anything.

Sweater clutched in front of her, Olivia pinched her lips together and mimicked Margot as she inhaled through her nose. Margot held it, lifting a hand to make sure Olivia would do the same. She exhaled slowly, lowering her hand. Olivia’s exhale was ragged, her shoulders sagging and curling forward. She scrunched her eyes shut, looking upset but no longer on the verge of hyperventilating.

“What if he isn’t fine?” Olivia repeated, voice breaking.

Margot’s heart clenched at the sound, at the way Olivia scrunched her eyes shut.

“He promised to tell you if he wasn’t. I was there, remember? I heard your entire phone call. He told you he didn’t want you to worry.”

Olivia turned her sweater right side out and slipped it on over her head. Static caused strands of her hair to stick straight up in multiple directions. “Exactly. He doesn’t want me to worry. All the more reason for him to keep me in the dark.”

“Don’t you think”—Margot winced, already anticipating Olivia’s reaction to what she was about to say—“if your dad says he’s fine, you should trust him?”

She swept her fingers through her hair, wincing when they snagged on a tangle. “I told you. He drove himself to the hospital when he had a heart attack, Mar. He only let the nurse call me when he had to stay overnight.”

Margot blew out her breath. “Okay, I can see where something like that might not engender a whole lot of trust. That’s—that’s shitty. I completely agree, and I—I can understand that your brain is probably going to the worst possible place right now.” Anxiety and fear weren’t always rational. Fuck, most of the time they were the complete opposite. Brains were assholes sometimes. “But, offering an outside perspective, I don’t think the fact that he’s selling the house necessarily means there’s something wrong with his health.” She cracked a smile. “Who knows? Maybe he’s selling because he plans to retire and wants to move down to one of those all-inclusive retirement villas in Florida. You know they have a huge nudist community right outside of Tampa? I watched this whole show on HGTV on it. Everyone carries a little personal towel around so when they visit they can sit on that instead of directly on the furniture. And they specifically cater to retirees. Maybe your dad wants to broaden his horizons.”

She wiggled her brows, managing to get Olivia to crack a smile.

“Dad hates Florida.” Olivia gathered her hair off her neck and swept it up into a bun, securing it with the scrunchie on her wrist. Several wisps of hair fell loose, framing her face. “We have cousins in Kissimmee. Last time we visited, all he did was complain about how hot and humid it was.” She sighed, shoulders slumping. “I just wish I knew why he didn’t tell me. I grew up in that house. I still have boxes in my old bedroom, clothes in the closet I didn’t bring with me—all my yearbooks are still on a bookshelf in the hall. I don’t get it.”

Margot hobbled around the bed until she could grab Olivia’s hand. She tangled their fingers together and squeezed, drawing her closer so she could wrap an arm around her waist. Olivia ducked her chin, smiling down at their hands softly, expression subdued but no longer looking like she was on the verge of making herself sick with worry. Progress. “Until you talk to him, I think you’re just spinning your wheels, Liv. You need the whole story.”

She pressed her lips together, throat jerking when she swallowed, nodding slowly. “You’re right. I—I need to talk to Dad.” She huffed through her nose, a little agitated noise punctuated by an eye roll. “He’s the only one who can answer my questions. Until then, it’s all hypothetical and—”

“So you’ll talk to him.” Margot swept her thumb against the back of Olivia’s knuckles, trying to soothe her the best she could. She lifted their joined hands, raising them high enough that she could brush her lips against the side of Olivia’s thumb in a quick kiss. Her chest clenched when Olivia smiled and—God, why had she been fighting this? Caring about Olivia came as easy as breathing. Margot should’ve known resistance was futile, that she’d always wind up here. “You’ll talk to him and he’ll explain and it’ll all make sense.”

Olivia sucked in a shuddering breath. “Or he’ll just tell me not to worry. You heard him on the phone. He’s really good at brushing things under the rug and sounding okay when he’s not.”

Words of reassurance failed her. There were only so many times Margot could say that everything would be all right before the words lost their value. “Just wait and see what he has to say, okay? Take it from there.”

Olivia’s lower lip wobbled before she trapped it between her teeth, blinking fast. “Am I a terrible daughter?” she whispered.

“What the hell, Liv? Why would you think that?” That was absurd. “You’re not. Jesus. If you’re a terrible daughter, I don’t even want to know what that makes me.”

Olivia lifted a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t tell me something like this.”

Maybe because he knew it would make her worry? “He probably doesn’t want to worry you. That’s the vibe I got from the call in the car.”

Olivia’s teeth scraped her bottom lip. She was going to bleed if she wasn’t careful. “If he doesn’t want me to worry, that means there’s something worth worrying over.”