Gosh, it’s going to be amazing.
Lifting my eyes to the clock on the wall, I see it’s almost time for my call with Dad. I open my laptop on the kitchen island before pouring myself a glass of ice tea.
The microwave beeps, telling me it’s done zapping my food. I take my plate to the island, and sitting on a stool, I shovel a warm bite into my mouth.
The zoom call appears on the screen, and I answer as I swallow the food down.
Dad’s room comes into view, showing a single bed, part of a desk, and a stack of files on a shelf.
“Hey, Daddy.” I take another bite of the lasagne.
Dad drops down in the desk chair, rubbing a towel through his wet, graying hair. “Hi, sweetheart. What are you eating?”
I take a sip of the ice tea, then answer, “Lasagna.”
A frown pulls his hairline down. “Again?”
“It’s the last of the leftovers.” I shrug.
“Whatever you make next, be sure to add some vegetables,” he grumbles.
I scrunch my nose. “I’m going to make meatloaf.”
Dad lets out a groan. “I wish you’d eat healthier.”
“That’s what vitamins are for.”
Dad narrows his eyes on me. “I’d prefer you get your nourishment straight from the source.”
Letting out a chuckle, I ask, “How’s work?” I pop another bite of food into my mouth.
Dad shifts in his chair, his eyes locked on me. “I’ll be here for another six weeks. My replacement resigned.”
I push out my bottom lip. “That sucks.” Setting down my fork, my shoulders slump. “That means I won’t see you for Christmas.”
“You’re looking at me right now, sweetheart.” He tries to give me an encouraging smile, but I can see he’s tired.
“You know it’s not the same,” I mumble.
“Just another year, then I’ll stop with the rigs. Okay?”
Dad wants to save up enough so he can take an extended break before finding work locally.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I can survive twelve months.”
Dad’s mouth curves up, and pride shines from his eyes. “That’s my girl. How’s the packing coming along?”
I turn the laptop, so Dad can see the living room. “I’ve only packed two boxes.”
“If you need me to arrange a moving company, just say the word. You don’t have to pack everything by yourself,” Dad says once again while I turn the laptop back to face me.
“I will.” I glance around the kitchen and living room.
I hear someone knocking on Dad’s side, and he turns his attention to the left of him, then he glances back at me. “Got to go, sweetheart.”
“Okay.”
“Give me a smile,” Dad says, and my lips instantly curve up. “There’s the reason my heart beats.”
My smile widens even more. “Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you most, Fin.”
When the call ends, I shut the laptop, then glance at the living room. I let out a happy sigh, feeling everything’s right in the world after getting to talk with Dad.
I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, and in my eyes, my father can do no wrong.
One year and he’ll be back for good.
Climbing off the stool, I decide to pack at least two more boxes before bed. I’m going to find us the perfect house in Southport and make it home. By the time Dad comes home for a break, I want everything to be ready, so he can just rest.
ETHAN
Standing back, I take in the guest restroom. I’ve just finished putting up the last of the tiles. Yeah, the light blue is a million times better than the snot green, as Quinn likes to refer to it.
I bought a place right on the beach, knowing it would take a lot of hard work to fix it up. I wanted something I could make my own, and the rundown, beach rental was perfect.
Walking to the kitchen, I grab a beer, and popping the top off, I step out onto the porch. I drop down in one of the white deck chairs, and resting my ankles on the weather-worn railing, I stare at the ocean.
Yeah, this is the life.
I’ve lived in Southport all my life and wouldn’t move for anything in the world. My life has had more ups than downs, thanks to my parents.
Eli, my older brother, is settling down with Quinn. They’re perfect together, just like my parents. Even though Quinn went through one hell of a rough patch when devastation struck our town, Eli stood strong next to her. It’s the way we were raised. You don’t bail when things get tough.
Tipping my head back, I take a sip of the beer.
I want what they have. A woman I can call my own, who’ll look at me as if I’m her everything. The way Quinn looks at Eli. The way Mom’s looked at Dad all my life.
My thoughts turn to the selection of single women in Southport as I rub my thumb over the condensation forming on the bottle.