Page 57 of Must Love Flowers
“Maggie?” Roy Herbert spoke first, his greeting full of surprise.
“Hi, Dad.”
He frowned and looked worried. “You okay?” The question was full of concern, although his voice was gruff.
“I’m good,” she assured him. “More than good, actually.”
He turned around on his stool to get a better look at her. His brow had nearly folded in half, as if he couldn’t fathom what had caused her to seek him out.
“This your daughter?” the man on the stool next to her father asked.
This must be his friend, Al, that her father had so often mentioned.
“That’s Maggie,” her father said, as a means of introduction.
“She’s pretty.”
“She takes after her mother.”
“You should be thankful she didn’t take after your sorry puss.” Al laughed, as if he found himself hilarious.
“Shut up, Al.” Her father slid off the stool and led Maggieover to one of the empty tables, of which there were plenty. Business this time of day at the Half Pint was apparently slim.
Maggie took a seat and offered him a weak smile.
“What’s going on?” her father asked a second time. His look told her he was conflicted, still angry that she’d left him and at the same time concerned, but unwilling to show it.
She shrugged. “Nothing much.”
“You doing okay with that widow lady?” His eyes darkened, as if convinced she’d made a terrible mistake by leaving him.
“It’s working out.”
He accepted her words with a tight nod, but his look said he wasn’t sure he believed her.
“How about you?” she asked.
He glanced down at the floor. “Gotta say, it’s a bit lonely without you traipsing in and out of the house at all hours of the day and night.”
Wow. That he’d be willing to admit he missed her was huge, especially after the way he’d acted when she’d moved out. It sounded like a concession on his part, his way of saying how badly he regretted his actions. This was big. Double wow.
“Are you taking care of yourself?” Maggie asked.
He snorted. “Gloat if you want, but the house seems empty without you there bugging me about my drinking and insisting I eat something.” It seemed her time away had mellowed him out a little.
“Glad to hear that,” she assured him, quickly quelling her amusement.
“You gonna offer your daughter a beer?” Al shouted from the bar.
“No,” Roy answered. “She doesn’t drink.” Then, turning to Maggie, he asked, “Right?”
“Right.” She didn’t feel the need to mention the occasional glass of wine. His asking gave her an idea, though. She’d buy a bottle of champagne to share with Joan later. Cheap champagne, as that was all she could afford.
Her father continued to stare at her, as if waiting for her to divulge the reason she’d sought him out.
Holding her breath, she decided to tell him, unsure of his reaction. “I got an email earlier. I’ve been awarded a two-year nursing scholarship.” His response was far and away beyond anything she could have anticipated.
Tears filled his eyes.
