and more frequently, so they were only seeing him once a month, and then once every other month. Within a year he’d given up the pretense altogether so he could spend his weekends with his new fiancée.
It was the first time Mia’s father had disappointed her, but certainly not the last. After years of no-shows and broken promises, she liked to think she’d hardened herself to it. But inside her still lurked that brokenhearted little girl who’d wanted to believe she was important to her dad.
She didn’t tell Josh any of this though. She didn’t like to talk about it, and she certainly didn’t want to admit that it bothered her. Her whole life she’d been acutely aware of her privilege. Never once had her parents let her go without food, shelter, or supervision. They’d given her the financial support she’d needed to succeed in life. She didn’t even have student loans to pay off. So if she’d sometimes wished she’d had a little more of their attention, it was hardly worth complaining about in the grand scheme of things.
Josh draped an arm around her, pulling her close so he could press a kiss to her temple. “That must have sucked.”
“It’s not like I’m the only kid whose parents ever got divorced.” She pushed him back on the couch so she could snuggle against him. “What’s your mom like?”
“She’s a lot like Birdie. The two of them look enough alike they could almost be mistaken for twins. Their personalities are similar too—although my mom’s a little less free-spirited than Birdie.”
His fingers combed through Mia’s hair and she closed her eyes, imagining having someone like Birdie for a mom. How amazing must it have been to be surrounded by that kind of warmth and affection all the time? To be accepted just how you were, without needing to prove anything to anyone.
“What about your dad?” she asked, snuggling closer.
“He’s a lot quieter than Mom. Some people might call him gruff, but really he’s a big softy on the inside.”
Mia gave his chest a playful tweak. “Like you.”
He swatted her hand away with a grunt. “I guess.”
Her phone gave a single, short buzz on the table, and she leaned forward to check her notifications. It was a new voicemail. Her father had left a message.
She tapped the screen and held the phone to her ear.
“Mia. This is your father.” As if she could mistake that stentorian voice on the recording for anyone else. “Your sister said you’re not coming home for Thanksgiving this year.”
It was so like him not to wonder about her holiday plans until the week before. As always, she was an afterthought.
“I’m sorry to hear you won’t be in town next week. There are some things I’d like to talk to you about. I’ve got room in my schedule after the holiday, so I was thinking I could come to you. See where you’re living now, catch up a little. And you could tell me about your work.”
Mia’s mouth fell open. Her father wanted to come see her? To catch up and hear about her work? Had he been possessed by body-snatching aliens? Replaced by an android with updated firmware? There had to be some kind of catch. An angle she couldn’t see. Like he was dying and needed a kidney.
“How does the Saturday after Thanksgiving look for you? It’d just be for one night. I’ll stay in Austin and drive down to see you for dinner. Call me back and let me know if that works for you.”
Oh crap.
Her father was coming here.
Chapter Nineteen
Mia waited to call her father back until Josh had gone home to do the evening milking. She hadn’t told Josh what he’d said in the voicemail, because she was still trying to process it.
It was probably moot anyway. She couldn’t believe her father would actually come here to visit her. Experience had taught her not to take him at face value.
Her father picked up on the second ring. “Hello, Mia.”
“Dad?” She was so shocked he’d actually answered her call that she almost forgot how to speak.
“Thanks for calling me back, Ace.”
She bristled every time he used his old nickname for her, because it implied a closeness that hadn’t existed for a long time. “Is everything okay?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”
Because you haven’t shown this much interest in me since I was eleven.
“I don’t know. When you said you needed to talk it sounded like it might be something serious. You’re not sick, are