“I’m not looking for somebody to blame. I just wanted to know why she never told me about you. I asked who you were and she never would give me a name.”

“I don’t know about all that. I guess she could’ve been bitter after I left her. Maybe that’s the reason.”

“Yeah,” I agree softly.

Maybe she was worried if I knew who he was, I’d get attached and he’d leave me too. Maybe she was only protecting me.

“We can get to know each other now,” Jon suggests, cutting into my thoughts. “I only missed, what, twenty years? That’s not that bad.”

“Twenty-two,” I correct him, smiling.

“Shit.”

Laughing, I wrap another string around my finger. “How far away is Tennessee from Alabama?”

“‘Bout eight hours, I’d say. Never driven it myself, though. Can’t be positive.”

Eight hours. That’s too far to drive just for a quick, get to know you, visit. I wouldn’t want to drive to his house anyway. I don’t know him. I need to get to know him first before I make a house visit. An idea pops into my head.

“Would you be interesting in meeting halfway? Like at a place to eat or something? We can sit and talk. I’m free next weekend if you are.”

“Yeah, yeah, all right. That sounds good. We can get a bite to eat and talk in person. I like that.”

“Really?” I sit up straighter. “That’s great. Do you want to do it Saturday? I can look online and pick a spot to meet up.”

He wants to meet me. I’m going to meet my dad!

“Yeah, yeah, sounds good. You handle that and call me with the time and place,” his voice is suddenly anxious, rattled with his abrupt energy.

I smile at his excitement. “Okay, great. I guess I’ll talk to you later on this week.”

“Yeah, yeah, perfect. Sounds good. All right, yeah.”

I pull the phone away from my ear when the call disconnects, then quickly scroll through my contacts.

Wow. He might be more excited about this meet up than I am. His tone went from borderline sedated to fan girl status in five seconds. He’s eager to meet me. He wants to make up for lost time.

I’m meeting my dad. In less than a week, I’m meeting him. This is crazy.

“Hey.”

I smile at the sound of Reed’s voice. It still carries the same tone he had when he left here so suddenly. Like something’s weighing heavy on his mind.

Or, he’s just tired, Beth. That is what he said.

I don’t let my worry bother me. “Hey, I talked to my dad.”

“Oh yeah?” The sound of a machine cutting wood dulls out in the distance. “What did he say?” he asks, his voice clearer.

“He said he wanted to get to know me. We made plans to meet halfway between Alabama and Tennessee on Saturday. Get a bite to eat and talk face-to-face.”

“Really?” Reed asks harshly. “You’re going to meet up with this guy, and you know nothing about him? You think that’s a good idea?”

“He’s my dad,” I explain quietly. “And I was hoping you would come with me.” I listen to him take in a deep breath, the soft sound of Nolan’s laughter in the distance, and Ben’s deep, muted voice, most likely directed at Nolan. Sighing, I find another string and wrap it around my finger. “I don’t want to go by myself, but it’s more than that. I want it to be you with me when I meet him. I’m really nervous, Reed, and I know if you’re there, I won’t be freaking out as much. Will you go with me? Please? You and me?”

“Beth.” He says my name so softly, so gently, it’s as if he’s pressing it into my skin.

“Please?”

He exhales noisily. “Of course I’m going with you. You’re not meeting this guy alone, and I’d go fucking crazy if anyone else drove you out there to meet him.”

Grinning, I stretch out on the bed. “Thank you. I won’t keep you. I know you’re busy.”

“Yeah, I’ll be here for a while. I’ve only gotten one step done. Nolan keeps asking me shit and it’s slowing me down. He’s so damn cute about it though I have to answer him.”

“He probably loves this time he gets to have with you. You get him so excited.”

“Everything gets Nolan excited.”

“Uncle Weed! You have to see dis!”

Reed laughs quietly. “He probably found a rock or something.”

Hearing Nolan’s anxious voice, I decide not to keep Reed. “Okay, I’ll let you go.”

“All right.”

“Reed?”

“Yeah?”

“There’s no one else I would rather be with. You know that, right?” I tell him.

“I’m not just referring to the plans on Saturday,” I don’t say.

He pauses, making me wait for his response.

After he gives it to me, I realize I would’ve waited more than nine seconds for what he tells me. Two words, that’s all, but so, so much more than just two words.

“Me too.”

Reed

CHRIST, I’M NOT READY FOR this.

I fucking should be though. It’s all I’ve thought about all week, an obsession that’s taken over every corner of my mind. I haven’t slept for shit. Work hasn’t been the distraction I’ve needed it to be. Thank God for Beth’s unreserved excitement keeping her sidetracked. She hasn’t noticed how fucking tired I look. The dark circles under my eyes, the heaviness to my steps. My worry is consuming me.

I want to be happy for her.

Fuck, I am happy for her. How can I not be?

This is Beth. My Beth. I’d do just about anything to see that unfuckingbelievable smile light up her face, and it’s been a permanent fixture all week. She can’t stop talking about her dad, what he might look like, if she resembles him in any way. She even made a list of possible questions she could ask him if they run out things to talk about. She’s so happy, so damn happy, and I want that for her. I want it more than my own happiness. Her dad is someone she should know. If they hit it off today and she chooses to pack up and leave Ruxton to go live with him in Tennessee, that’s her choice, and I won’t make her feel guilty for wanting it. I won’t put my fear of losing her before something she deserves. This isn’t about me.

This isn’t about me.

It’s about her.

Sitting in the passenger seat of my truck, wearing the same outfit she wore that day at Sal’s. Clapton, tiny denim shorts, showing off those perfect fucking legs, and the boots I’ve felt digging into my back more times than I can count. If I haven’t lived out every one of my fantasies of her wearing only those boots, I’m damn near close.

Beth picks at the polish on her thumb nail, her eyes staring blankly out the front window, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.

We’re more than halfway into our trip and she’s being unusually quiet.

I don’t want her to be nervous about this. I don’t want her to worry about anything, especially not whether this man will accept her, love her. Whether he’ll want to know this amazing woman he’s missed out on for twenty-two years. If he doesn’t, if he has no interest in being her father after spending one second with her, he’s a fucking idiot who doesn’t deserve to live. I won’t let anyone or anything else hurt Beth. Jesus fucking Christ, she’s been through enough. I also won’t let her sit next to me and worry herself sick over this shit.