“Maybe it’s hard to see clearly from the bottom of a tumbler of whiskey. I quit my job because I wanted to do something with my place at Colman and you didn’t want to even listen to my ideas. Asa had nothing to do with that. Also, I live in my own apartment, so we’re not shacking up. But even if I was living with him he still wouldn’t have been connected to why I left Colman.”

“You keep telling yourself that, Penelope. You don’t seem to mind failing at things.”

Everything just sort of froze for long moments as the pain of that sliced through her, tearing at her heart.

Her mother’s face darkened with anger and Julie’s eyes widened.

It was by will alone that she was able to stand without shaking on her wobbly knees. PJ grabbed her purse, pulling money from her wallet and tossing it at her father. “That covers our meal and the wine and tip. And on that loving, positive note, I’m going to leave.”

“Penelope, wait.” Her mother headed after her, along with Julie.

PJ paused at the front doors because she didn’t want to carry all the drama out to Asa, but she did not want to have this scene in a restaurant waiting area either. She shook her head at her mother. “No. I’ve had enough for one night. I’m not going to stay to be insulted and listen to all that stuff about Asa.”

“He’s drunk. He doesn’t know how to deal with you growing up and doing things on your own. You used to seek his approval; he misses that.”

“And yet he continues to toss away any opportunity to give me even the smallest bit of his approval. This isn’t about me growing up and him being a daddy who can’t let go of his princess. Remember his comments about how I love failure? He ought to know. I’ve wasted years of my life begging for his approval. I’ve now accepted that will never happen. I’m done.” It hurt for PJ to say those things, but she meant them, and once they’d been spoken, she had no choice but to hear.

“He doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“Mom, no. I love you, but please stop. I appreciate that you wanted to meet Asa, but please don’t ask me to pretend I believe that.” PJ hugged her mother. “He knows what he was saying. For a long time I thought it was my imagination that he felt that way. But he’s been up-front about it all my life, so that’s on me.”

Her mother shook her head. “No. Penelope, he loves you.”

“I don’t need that kind of love.” She hugged her mom once more and then her sister.

Julie kissed her cheek. “Call me tomorrow. I mean it.”

“Okay. Drive safe. Love you both.”

When she walked out, she nearly bumped into Asa, who was walking back across the street with Jay and Shawn.

He totally had been showing off his car. That made her feel a little better.

“What’s going on?” Jay stopped her.

“I’m going now.” She hugged Jay and thanked him quietly for being so welcoming to Asa and for the way he’d gone to ask the bartender to water down their father’s drinks earlier.

“What happened in there?” Shawn asked.

“Too much scotch and ego.” She hugged Shawn, relieved Asa hadn’t asked anything yet. “I’m sure Julie can give you the rundown.”

Asa said his good-byes to her brothers and put an arm around her shoulders as they went to the car.

Chapter Twenty-one

Once he’d gotten back on the freeway she exhaled hard. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe that just happened in front of you.”

“PJ, stop.” Asa kept his gaze on the road, so she was free to stare her fill at his profile.

“That shitshow in there was so rude. Honestly, I’m horrified.” That her father hadn’t even made the smallest effort, that instead he’d gotten drunk and belligerent, had been a blow she still reeled from.

“Your dad was having a rough day by the looks of it. But that wasn’t your fault, and the rest of your family was nice. Even Jay. He bragged about you, you know.”

“Jay?”

He laughed. “Yes. He’s proud of you. They all are, even your dad, I wager. You’re different, but your siblings seem just fine with that.”

“My whole life it’s been ‘Penelope Jean, don’t be common. You’re meant for better things, you won’t achieve that if you color your hair wildly or pierce more than one hole in your ear.’ ”

“I’m glad you’re not common, darlin’. I get what you mean, but you are singular. There’s no one like you in all the world. I’m sorry your dad is having such a rough time with that.”

“The summer I was fourteen I saw a sidewalk chalk artist at work and my mother got me these chalks to use so I could try it myself. I’d go out there at the top of our driveway every day and work, hosing if off and redoing it. One day I remember trying something to give it a three-dimensional quality. Have you seen what some of those street artists can do? Like huge chalk murals that look like people fishing in lakes or crevasses down to dark depths. That sort of thing. Anyway. My dad came out and made me hose it all off and throw the chalk into the trash. He said I could have fine art lessons if I wanted, but I couldn’t deface the driveway with scribbles.”

“Christ.” He blew out a breath. “I’m sorry.”

“When he gave me permission to paint the Colman logos on our cars it was one of the best days of my life. I felt like he finally understood that just because I was different it didn’t mean I was worse. Or wrong. It was like he was all right with my being creative.” It had felt like a respite from being a failure in his eyes all the time. “And we know how that ended up.”