Thick & Thin (Thin Love, #3)(78)

“Got most of that from Simone. She has legs that go on forever.” Dad fought a slow-moving smirk that told me he was remembering something I didn’t really want to know about. “But you’re right. He’s not mine. I don’t need a test to tell me that. Besides, Simone admitted the truth inside ten minutes of our coffee.”

We took the exit toward Mandeville and I noticed Dad’s body had gone stiff, as though he wasn’t sure if he could contain his excitement the closer we drove through town. “You alright?” Dad nodded, fists tight again on the wheel. He’d been so slick, so charming with Simone, like he was on his game and wanted the world to know it. Watching him throw a smile her way, nothing more than a simple flirt to relax her, how he looked right into her eyes, hung onto every sound that left her mouth, had me guessing this was his point. To relax her. Schmooze her, warm her up to get to the bottom of this bullshit drama. But even when he had and the truth came to him, Kona hadn’t dropped the charm. In fact, he’d seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say after a while. Never once did he lose his confidence or his swagger.

Now though, he fidgeted and moved in his seat like he had to have a piss and wasn’t sure if he’d make it home in time. Dad’s tie hung around the mirror, but otherwise he still looked decent, impressive even. Mom was likely to be as flustered by his presence as Simone had been, but from how Dad carried on, I got that he wasn’t thinking about that.

“Listen, Dad, just be chill. Don’t storm in there expecting her to drop whatever she’s doing to hear you out. I mean she…

“Ransom, I know how to talk to my wife, especially when she’s pissed at me.” That was bullshit. This past week was proof enough of that, hell the past few months were. If he’d talked to his wife to begin with, this would have all gone a different way, a fact he seemed to realize when I moved my eyebrows up, staring at him like he was a dumbass. Finally, Dad sighed, letting one short laugh leave his mouth. “Well. Under normal circumstances, when I’m not being an *, I know how to talk to her.”

Dad slowed the car, taking the curves with cautious movements that had me guessing his excitement was waning and the doubt creeping in, now that we were getting closer to home. At least, that’s what I assumed until we came to a stop at the red light at Greenleaves and 190.

“What you told me,” he said, leaning against the door as the traffic moved in front of us. “About Aly and what I said to her the night of your mom’s birthday party…”

“Dad, you couldn’t have known.”

“Maybe not…” Kona dipped his head, expression guarded but I could see that whatever he thought gutted him and it looked as though he couldn’t decide what to say or how to tell me what he thought.

“Dad…”

“I might not have known about it, but I still shouldn’t have opened my damn mouth.” The cars across the highway sped past, afternoon traffic still thick at this intersection but Kona didn’t seem bothered by it. His attention wasn’t on the road or the cluster of cars that waited for the light to turn. “I’m sorry, Ransom. I really am and I’ll do my best to make it right.” He didn’t look away from me until the car behind us laid on its horn, and Dad peeled out from the light.

I believed him. No one could ever accuse my father of not making up for his mistakes. I was proof of that. There was no way he’d half-ass an apology to Aly.

But as we pulled into our road and Kona ignored the low speed sign in his impatience to get to the lake house, I figured Aly wasn’t the only one who would get an explanation that day.

He only hesitated for a second when we pulled into the drive. Dad squeezed the wheel, focusing on the whites of his knuckles before he looked me square in the face like he hoped, maybe, I’d have something encouraging to say. But this would be on him. He’d started the mess by keeping it to himself. Mom, though without knowing it, had exacerbated it by believing Cass was capable of basic human decency. They’d have to get this fixed together or not at all. There was nothing I could do for them.

Dad was out of the car and up the long drive before I could get my door shut and made a beeline for my mother the second their gazes caught.

Aly set next to my mother with two half empty mugs of tea in front of them. She hazarded a glance my way before she left her chair, coming to greet me just as Dad made it to the table. There was a lot that passed between my parents then. The thick heat pulsed in the air, smelling faintly of sweat and the bitterness of Breakfast tea and honey as Dad watched my mother. He didn’t speak, seemed more content to hold her gaze.

Finally, when she seemed incapable of returning his stare, Mom looked down, frowning with her eyebrows moving together. “Sara said…”

“I know what she said, Wildcat.” He knelt in front of her. His reach was slow, hesitant, but Mom didn’t slap his hand away or tell him to leave again as those fingers stretched out. The tips touched first, a brush of his index finger, the base of his thumb cupping underneath her chin and down her throat as he made contact.

It was like the pulse of warming spring pushing against a thin sheet of ice frozen on the surface. Something that was slow, but insistent. Mom’s eyes were rimmed red, while heavy dips underneath had gone hollow and sunken. But she let Kona go on making tentative touches against her face, the small worship of his hands along those fine, thin bones, until Mom stopped being shy and those giant blue eyes of hers moved, that gaze licking up my father’s neck, to his knife edge chin, finally coming to his nose before they stared at each other.