Love on the Lake (Lakeside 2)

CHAPTER 1

WELCOME TO YOUR NEW LIFE

Teagan

“Uh, Dad, I think you need to come here!” I shout. For a panicked moment I question what fresh hell this morning has brought with it.

A moving truck is backing into our driveway.

Less than a year ago we downsized from a seven-thousand-square-foot mansion we could not afford—unless we planned to sell most of our major organs on the black market—to a two-thousand-square-foot home. For nearly two decades my dad used excessive spending as a way to mourn the loss of my mother, God rest her beautiful soul. It took a family scandal for him to realize that he needed to make some very important changes in his life, which included putting an end to spending money he didn’t have.

I abandon the care package I’m in the middle of putting together for my younger brother and am halfway across the room when my dad appears in the doorway, his expression reflecting his concern. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.” I motion outside, where the moving truck continues to beep as it backs up toward the garage. “Please tell me we don’t have to move again.”

“Oh! Oh no, Teagan.” He comes to stand next to me and gives my shoulder a squeeze. “No, we don’t have to move. I meant to talk to you about this before today.”

The moment of relief is quickly replaced by confusion. My father looks . . . chagrined? “Talk to me about what?”

“Just give me a moment. I need to open the garage door, and then we can have a chat.” He rushes off, and soon after, I hear the garage door whir open. One of the movers hops out of the passenger side of the truck, and my dad approaches him.

If we’re not moving out, it means that someone else is moving in. It’s not either of my brothers—my youngest brother, Bradley, is in prison, hence the care package I’m putting together. Sometimes I wonder if he wouldn’t have ended up where he is if I’d been a better big sister. My older brother is living in Pearl Lake with his fiancée—which leaves only one other potential option.

I watch while two men wearing matching T-shirts and old ripped jeans begin carrying boxes and furniture into the garage. I recognize one of the chairs they bring inside. It’s in the photo Dad has as his screen saver, of him and his girlfriend of six months.

I go back to packing Wall Street Journals and new notebooks into the box. I want to make sure it gets in the mail today so Bradley has it for the weekend. A few minutes later Dad reappears in my doorway.

“Danielle is moving in with us,” I say without looking at him.

“She called last night to let me know the movers rescheduled the truck for today instead of Saturday. I meant to talk to you about it before they arrived this morning, but I didn’t realize you were already awake, and I didn’t want to disturb you. I didn’t mean for it to be a surprise, honey.”

I glance at the clock on my nightstand. It’s nine thirty in the morning. On a Wednesday. It’s our work-from-home day, and Dad always tells me I can sleep in. Something I never actually do.

The fact that his plan was to give me a few hours’ notice about our new roommate isn’t a big surprise. Half of his life choices seem to be afterthoughts.

I force a bright smile. It’s not that I don’t want him to have someone in his life. If anyone deserves happiness, it’s my dad. He’s had enough turmoil and strife to last several lifetimes. “You and Danielle have been spending a lot of time together. I think it’s great that you’ve decided to take the next step in your relationship.” It’s not even that I’m worried about Danielle moving in so soon after they’ve started dating. The issue is more that I’m in my midtwenties and still living with my dad. I even suggested I get my own place when he downsized. But it was on the heels of my breakup with my long-term boyfriend, and my dad said he would be lonely without me. And that he would miss all my baking, so I moved along with him. And now this.

He gives me an apologetic smile. “I meant to sit down and talk with you. Danielle was worried. I know we haven’t been together that long.”

“When you know, you know, right?” Six months isn’t long, but it isn’t short either. And my dad’s been on a dating hiatus for the past two decades, so to him, this probably feels monumentally long.

He smiles down at me. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that. I know you and Danielle will get along great.”

“We absolutely will.” I nod, trying to assuage his concern.