over. “Your mother would’ve loved to wake to find Adrianne here, but now I get to have all the fun. And I will. So don’t worry about me.”
“I’ll be back first thing,” Callum told him, worried anyway, even though his father looked less wan and less stressed and less . . . stooped and old than he had in months. “Hell, I may come back and crash on the couch so you don’t have to deal with breakfast. Addy’s still acting out about her Grammy being gone.”
“Then she needs to see exactly how much fun breakfast can be when we don’t have to worry about our silverware matching while we eat pancakes shaped like snowmen.” His father gestured toward the bed, where he’d pulled down the covers before they’d arrived. The lamp on the bedside table burned on low.
After laying down his daughter, Callum waited for her to roll onto her side before pulling the bedspread around her shoulders. His father was taking his mother’s absence a whole lot better than Callum would’ve imagined. He wasn’t even sure he was taking it as well, but then, he was dealing with Addy’s emotions and outbursts, which influenced his own feelings about what his mother had done—and not for the better.
“I would say you don’t have to spoil her with snowman pancakes, but maybe it’s what she needs. God knows I’m not exactly doing the best job of figuring that out these days.” Then again, he wasn’t doing such a good job with any of his relationships except maybe with Lena, and that was because she didn’t let him get away with shit.
“How’s Brooklyn?” his dad asked as if reading his mind. “The two of you doing okay? Getting any closer to making things official?”
“You know me,” he said, wiggling his daughter’s backpack off his shoulder and tossing it to the seat of the corner chair. “I’ve been kinda snake-bit these last few years when it comes to making choices.”
His father huffed. “Easy to understand when you get told you’re making bad ones often enough.”
“Took me until ten thirty-three tonight to make the one that brought me here.” And then he’d called his dad at 10:34.
From the doorway where he stood, his father chuckled. “Marking the date and time for posterity, huh?”
“Not on purpose,” Callum said. “I can’t let her go. Not without her knowing . . .”
He let the sentence trail, and smoothed Addy’s hair over the pillow. He was still on shaky ground, and wouldn’t have his footing right until he talked to Brooklyn in person. He glanced at the clock beside the bed, his stomach tumbling. Time was ticking.
After kissing his daughter’s temple, he headed for the door. His father backed into the hallway, waving him toward his study. Ticking, ticking, ticking.
“Dad, I really should go. It’s late.”
“Humor me for five minutes.” The older man walked into the room, lit a bright aquarium blue, and switched on a lamp. “I know what you feel for Brooklyn has come on suddenly, but that doesn’t make it suspect. There is such a thing as love at first sight.”
Callum hoped his father was right, because he didn’t want to think he was making a mistake, falling so hard and so fast. Falling in love—because he was. Completely. In ways he’d never known love existed.
“Dad,” he said, his throat tightening around the words. “I’m going to ask her to marry me.”
“Well, that’s the best news I’ve heard in a while,” he said, the big wide grin splitting his face quickly turning into a frown. “Except didn’t you tell me the night we cooked burgers that she’s flying out of here later this week?”
“She is,” Callum said, nodding, his hands at his hips, the thought a monstrous weight dragging him down. “She’s scheduled to, anyway. I’m hoping she’ll change her mind. Or at least do what she needs to do and come back sooner than she’s planning to.”
“What is it she’s doing?”
He gave a sharp snort. “Believe it or not, scattering her husband’s ashes.”
“Ah,” his father said thoughtfully. “So changing her mind has some complications.”
Callum nodded. They were complications he wasn’t sure he could overcome. One thing was certain: he wasn’t going to get anything settled standing here. “Dad, I really need to go.”
“All right, but I’ve got something I want to give you first,” his father said, making his way to his desk. “I’ve been holding on to it for a long time.”
“Well, it can’t be a piece of advice, since you never