Swear (Landry Family #4)(15)

"You need to get out of this house," I insist. "When is the last time you left this room?"

"I don't sleep in here."

"Okay. When's the last time you saw John? Or went to Kenny's," I say, talking about his lone friend and the pool hall four streets over that he used to frequent.

"What are you? My keeper?" he grins. "I'm fine, Ellie. Don't worry about me."

"Of course I worry about you! You're my daddy."

This makes him smile. "That I am."

Glancing around the room, I notice all the dust and cobwebs covering everything not used daily. My mom's owl collection lacks its usual luster because of all the grime. The once-white walls are starting to peel in places, and the ceiling looks like it had a leak in it at one time.

"I'm going to come over here and clean this place up," I tell him. "We need to wash stuff down, paint a little."

"You have your hands full downtown."

"But I will always make time for you."

"Don't bother with it," he says, leaning back in his chair and wincing as he stretches his arms over his head. "I'll get around to that stuff."



       
         
       
        

"Sure you will."

"Stop needling me and tell me what's happening with you. How's the shop coming together?"

"We're aiming to open soon," I say. "Maybe a month or so. It's taking a little longer than I thought it would."

"I warned you."

"I know," I sigh. "You've warned me about a lot of things in my life."

The words tumble from my lips before I can stop them. Taking a deep breath to try to settle the little flutter in my belly as my brain demands to replay Ford's smile from earlier today, I look at Dad. Of course he notices my hesitation.

"What's this all about?" he asks.

I could lie to him. Or, more accurately, I could try to lie to him. He'd know though. He always does.

Sucking in a breath, I go for it. "Ford is back in town."

His features remain passive, but I see the sparkle in his eye. "He is, huh?"

"He came by Halcyon."

"How's he doing?"

"I don't know," I say as casually as I can.

He scoffs, leaning forward so his elbows rest on the table. "Don't be like that, Ellie."

"Don't be like what?"

A low chuckle rumbles from his chest, but he's not amused. It's more irritation, a frustrated huff that his baby girl is a little more like him than he cares to admit.

"Life's too short for this," he warns.

"Life's too short to not want to have an in-depth conversation with someone that broke your heart?"

"You were both young."

"I. Don't. Care," I bristle, knowing he'd take my side in a second if he knew the truth. But I have never told him, and if I'm honest with myself, a part of the reason is I don't want him to be mad at Ford. I don't know why I don't. I just don't. "I know you've always liked him, but you could at least pretend to like me more."

His laugh this time is genuine and I almost return it.

"He's a good man. I know you-"

"Daddy, don't start on this now."

"Ellie Dawn, listen to your old man for a second," he says in the way that lets me know I'm about to get an earful. "You are the only person in this world that I love. The only reason why I'm not lying beside your mama right now," he tells me. "I only want the best for you. I want you to have a full, happy life."

"I know that."

He sighs. "I have one regret and that's raising you to be too much like me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" 

"You're just like me," he says with a hint of pride. "You're as stubborn as a mule and ready to argue for the sake of it."

"It's served me well."

"But once you get to be my age, you realize it's the setup for a lonely life."

My heart constricts in my chest as I watch a flutter of memories flicker across his face. I reach out and take his hand, speckled with dark spots and calluses from a life of hard work.

"Are you lonely?"

"Not really," he lies. "I got my Westerns here."

Words escape me as I hold his hand, his skin not as warm as it used to be, nor is it as strong as I remember it being when I was young.

"Look at me," he says finally. "What have I become? Your mama passed away and I just sit here, day after day, wasting my life away. Hell, I'll die one of these days, and I don't even have six friends to carry my casket."

"Don't talk about that," I say, blinking back tears. "You aren't going to die for a very long time."