The Lemon Sisters (Wildstone #3)(95)

“Better than nothing. And thanks.” Garrett grabbed his keys and headed out. He knew his dad could be anywhere by now, but he’d start at the store.

“Seen my dad lately?” he asked Ace, who was behind the counter.

“You’ve asked me that just about every day for over a week now.”

“Which isn’t an answer,” Garrett noted.

Ace blew out a breath and hesitated, looking guilty as hell.

Dammit. “Look, it’s important. I wouldn’t ask you to betray a confidence otherwise.”

“Dude, I made a promise.”

“He’s sick,” Garrett said. “Did he tell you that?”

From Ace’s expression, it was clear he hadn’t known. “He told me he refused to upend your life, not ever again.”

Garrett absorbed the blow of that. “He didn’t upend my life. I managed that all on my own. I owe him an apology and a real effort.”

Ace looked at him for a long moment. “He’s at the campground. In a gray tent he . . . appropriated.”

“I’ve been there every damn day,” Garrett said. “I haven’t seen his truck.”

“He sold it.”

Fifteen minutes later, Garrett was at the campgrounds, heading up the trail. The weather had warmed, and there were at least twenty tents there now. He strode up to the only gray one in sight and stood at the zipped-up door, thinking this could go easy or hard. “Dad.”

Nothing.

The hard way it was, then.

“Dad, there’s no reason for you to stay out here,” he said, staring at his boots. “I’ve got plenty of room for you and Snoop.” He paused, knowing he needed to try harder. “I’d really like it if you came home.”

Nothing.

Garrett pinched the bridge of his nose. “Listen, I was a dick, all right? You showed up after all those years, and I was nursing a grudge like a stupid little kid. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder. I’m sorry I kept myself closed off to you. I’m sorry for a lot of things.”

Still no movement from inside the tent.

He was batting 0 for 2 in the relationship department. “I don’t want you to leave, Dad.” There. He’d said it out loud. “I want you to live with me. I want to give us a shot at this dad-and-son thing.” And he actually meant it.

There was a rustle from inside the tent and then a head appeared. A thirtysomething head, looking like he’d seen better times. “Dude. Wrong tent. But nice speech. I’d totally come home with you, man.”

Garrett smiled grimly and moved through the small city of tents. He found another gray one, way in the back. “Anyone home?” he asked.

This time, the silence was loaded.

“Dad?”

The zipper slowly came undone, and Snoop stuck his head out to bark a greeting. His dad’s head came next, his expression quiet and reflective.

“There you are,” Garrett said with huge relief, and tried to remember his speech. But he was drawing a blank. “I made you an appointment with a doctor for this afternoon.”

“I don’t need a doctor. This was supposed to be about you, Garrett,” his dad said quietly. “About how I treated you, how I failed you. About helping you make a home in that house you’ve been neglecting because . . . well, hell, I’m not sure why, but I bet a therapist would be happy to trace that back to something I did, too. I was here to make amends, Garrett. Not further screw you up. So, I’m moving on. I’ve got another job, and they really need me, so . . .” He started to retreat back into his tent.

Garrett was really getting tired of losing the people he cared about due to his own stubborn incompetence. Sometimes you’ve got to try a different route to get where you want to go . . . Brooke had taught him that. So he pulled out the big guns. “Dad, wait. Look at Snoop,” he said. “He deserves a home, don’t you think? He loves my house. Where else can he sniff kitty butts and eat Tender Vittles right out of a sandbox?” He squatted low and hugged Snoop. “Forget about us, Dad, but think of Snoop. He needs this. Come home with me.”

His dad looked at Snoop, who licked his face, then turned back to Garrett. “You’re sure?”

“Positive.”

His dad nodded and came out of his tent. “Then let’s go.”

“Your tent and stuff,” Garrett said.

His dad looked back at it. “I’m going to leave it all here for someone in need. Unless I’ll be needing it again . . . ?”

“No, you won’t be needing it again,” Garrett said firmly, and then the three of them headed down the trail.

A LITTLE BIT later, Garrett had his dad settled in and comfortable, and while he felt good about it, he wasn’t done.

He had to get Brooke back, too.

There was delicious scent coming from the kitchen, and he followed it. Apparently epiphanies made one hungry because his stomach went off, reminding him he hadn’t eaten in . . . he didn’t know how long. He found his dad piling three plates with bacon and eggs.

“Where’s the cutie?” his old man asked. “I made enough for everyone.”

“She’s gone.”

His dad looked at him in surprise. “You screwed it up? What’s wrong with you?”

“A lot, actually.”