Chapter 73

seventy-three

LIAM

Sitting in my favorite overstuffed armchair, I pretended to read the newspaper. I didn't need to raise my head to know my father was staring at me.

"What is it, Dad?"

"How long have you been living in Chicago?"

I lowered the newspaper. "Four weeks."

"And in that time, how often have you smiled?"

I didn't have to think too hard about my answer. I hadn't smiled since I'd left Sunrise Bay. I'd known moving back home wouldn't be easy, but I hadn't anticipated just how difficult it would be.

"It doesn't matter how much I've smiled. I came here to do a job and spend more time with you."

James Nelson snorted. "Doesn't mean you can't enjoy yourself. And just for the record, you didn't have to come here. I was willing to move closer to you." He pulled himself out of his chair and walked into the kitchen.

I didn't know why my dad was so concerned about my happiness, but that was nothing new. Most of the time, we were as different as night and day, but occasionally, he surprised me. Like now.

James handed me a parcel. "This arrived for you this afternoon. I've turned on the coffeepot."

In oversized letters, Amy had written a message on the back of the box: Yummy cookies for my best friend. The smiley face she'd drawn at the end of the sentence made my heart ache. I missed the joy that Amy brought into my life and her simple way of looking at the world. And I missed Paul. We'd only talked to each other a few times since I'd arrived in Chicago. The short conversations had left me feeling miserable. Even my emails to Amy made the distance between us unbearable.

A knife appeared under my nose. "Use this. If it's anything like the other parcels, you'll need more than brute strength to open it."

Each week, a parcel had arrived from Sunrise Bay. The boxes were always covered in lots of layers of tape. Amy must have spent a long time making sure each box would reach Chicago unopened. I sliced along the edges and pulled back the flaps.

"I'm shocked," James said with a dramatic gasp. "Was that a smile?"

"You'd better behave yourself or I won't share what's inside."

James leaned forward and breathed in the sweet smell of cocoa. "Chocolate chip," he said wistfully. "I haven't tasted cookies as good as Amy and Paul's since your mom died. You can't begrudge a man one of the few pleasures in his life."

"Eating cookies?"

"Eating Paul and Amy's cookies. "

I handed the parcel to my dad. "Help yourself, but don't take them all."

"As if I'd do that," James muttered. He reached into the box and took two cookies. "It takes a lot of skill to create the perfect cookie. Paul's business must be booming if all his baking is as good as this."

"I don't know how he's doing."

"Why haven't you asked him?"

"I've only called Paul to thank him and Amy for the parcels they've sent."

My dad frowned. "That's called a wasted opportunity. Sounds to me like you need to think about what you want in life."

My appetite disappeared. When my dad handed me the box, I left it on the coffee table. "I've got everything I've ever wanted."

His dad bit into one of the cookies. "You could have fooled me. Do you love him?"

"I'm assuming you're talking about Paul?"

"Unless there's another man you're madly in love with then, yes, I'm talking about Paul."

I stared into the fireplace. I'd never stopped loving him. Even when he decided to stay in Sunrise Bay, I'd wanted the very best for him. But, after everything that had happened, I wasn't sure I was the person Paul needed in his life.

"Just looking at you is giving me indigestion," my dad complained. "What's wrong with calling him?"

"I told him I wasn't coming back."

James sighed. "Is that what you still want?"

"I don't know. If it were just Paul and me, it'd be different. But if something happens between us and I left, Amy would be devastated."

"How do you think Amy's survived this long without you? She's six years old. She doesn't see the world like an adult. As long as she's loved, the rest doesn't matter."

I ran my hand along my jaw. "She wants a dad."

"What child doesn't?" James said quietly. "You gave Lacey the best of who you were. She loved you. Don't you think it's time you did something to make yourself happy?"

"It's not that easy."

"Sure it is. In the meantime, have a cookie." James handed me the box and smiled. "You know what they say—the way to a man's heart is through his stomach. It worked for your mom. Maybe it'll work for you, too."

"If that were true, I wouldn't be sitting with you in Chicago."

My dad chuckled. "Some of us are slow learners."

I bit into a cookie and sighed. My dad might think differently than me, but he knew a great cookie when he saw one. And this batch was one of the best I'd ever tasted.