Stacking the Deck (A Betting on Romance Novel Book 2)(100)
Now, she recognized that all he meant was ‘I’m sorry.’
“Me, too,” she whispered, and then she began to cry, silently at first, trying to hold it in, trying to control the force and overwhelming wave of misery, but then the dam burst, and she sobbed out loud. Huge, gulping, ugly sobs that wracked her frame and hurt her throat. And when her dad said something like, “aw, honey,” it only made her cry all the harder—uncontrollable, hiccupping tears that flooded her face and coursed over the phone as she mopped them up with a piece of paper towel she’d hastily torn from the roll.
He let her cry, silent on the other end, until she was spent, her breaths coming in long, stuttering hiccups. She mopped her eyes some more. Blew her nose.
When she was finally quiet, he said, “I love you, Chickie,” his voice hoarse and strained, and she realized with an ache in her heart he’d been crying right along with her.
“I love you, too, Dad.” Liz hiccupped into his ear. “Th—thanks for calling.”
“I’ve been wanting to for days, but your mother hasn’t moved more than ten feet from the phone. Just in case you called.”
An image of her mother tethered by the phone cord had her almost smiling. “She really needs to get a cordless phone.”
“You know she won’t listen.”
“I know.” But he had. He’d listened. Even if all she’d done was cry.
Liz took another deep, cleansing breath and hugged Eddie. Crying didn’t change a damn thing, but it felt good to let it out. It felt good to know he cared enough to call. “So, um, when do you close on the house?” Her dad cleared his throat. He didn’t answer. “Dad?”
“That’s not going to happen right away.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“They backed out. Without the shed and with the damage to the yard, they bought another place.”
“But… couldn’t you just adjust the purchase price? Wouldn’t they renegotiate? Can’t you ask Valerie—?”
“It’s done. Don’t worry about it.”
Liz felt new tears well up. “I’m so sorry, Dad. I know this is my fault!”
“Some things are nobody’s fault.”
“But this…”
“It’s all right. John said he’d go over and help when he can. Trish, too. I’ll come home in a couple weeks to finish up. We’ll make it work.”
“But, won’t Mom—?”
“She doesn’t want to see the fire damage. You know how she is about a lush lawn. Better to leave things how she remembered them.”
“I could—”
“Hush. You’ve done enough. You take care of you.” He chuckled lightly. “And, for God’s sake, don’t let any more men chasing after you try to get your mother to help them throw a proposal party. It took me two weeks before she’d go near my laptop again. You think she was scared of technology before…”
“Don’t worry. I don’t know what the future holds, but I don’t think I’ll be having that problem anytime soon.” She grimaced. “They’ve offered me a promotion at Ames & Reed.”
“They have? That’s great!”
“I haven’t accepted.” He was silent. “Dad?”
“You afraid, Chickie? You know you can do anything you set your mind to.”
“I think I just need more time to think about it.”
“Good idea. Your little yellow notebooks always seemed to help you think. Get one of those out, and you’ll have a new plan in no time.”
Liz let out a long, cleansing sigh. “I love you, Dad, but yellow legal pads can only take you so far.”
They said their goodbyes, and Liz went to the little window over the sink and stared out at the same sliver of street she’d looked at every day for six long years. Eesh, she hated this apartment. Hated the ugly popcorn ceilings and the awkward floor plan. Why had she stayed? Just because it was cheap? What did she think she was saving her money for?
Liz looked around at the eighties-style cabinets, the box of cardboard cereal and her one-eyed cat... and half-smiled. Maybe she didn’t have a fiancé, a whole heart, or a clue where she was going in life, but there was one thing she did have: a family that cared about her.
And, despite all that made them quirky and unlovable, she’d do anything for them. Because, in the end, when everything else in life had gone up in smoke and she was left craving swiss cake rolls and crying into a paper towel, they were all she had left.
This was the love Carter had been talking about. This was the real, unvarnished, authentic Liz she’d run away from all those years ago, because it had hurt too much to feel. But the alternative—a lifetime of trying to control every outcome—wasn’t the answer either. She had to go home. She had to remember who she was before she’d walled herself off from her own imperfections. She had to let the old Beth back in.
Liz swiped at her aching eyes, her nose and lips swollen from crying… and whole-smiled this time.
“Hey, Eddie,” she said. “How do you feel about a road trip?”
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
____________________
IT WAS ABOUT HOUR NINE of her fourteen hour drive, as she crossed the great state of New York surviving on coffee and fast food, that Liz began to have second thoughts about her decision to drive back to Sugar Falls and clean up the shed mess herself.