Coffee Shop Girl (Coffee Shop #1) - Katie Cross Page 0,78

That you’d kept him going. He lived as long as he did because of how much he loved you. But he was in physical and emotional pain, and he said he couldn’t fight it anymore. To him, it was the most compassionate route for everyone. Even though it wasn’t. Mourning him opened up new wounds. Not sure if you’ve noticed this, but your family isn’t great about talking over the hard things.”

Snatches of my childhood came back to me. The night I told him I didn’t sign up for football my senior year, I found him in the garage, sitting in his wheelchair, nailing a punching bag over and over, grunting with every thwack until he tired himself out. He’d stared at it, panting, his face etched with pain. I’d thought it was because of what I’d told him. Thought I had failed him again. That I wasn’t who he wanted me to be.

But now I saw it differently. Maybe his rage hadn’t been about me.

Maybe he thought I’d said no to football because of him.

“I’d like to point out,” she said, breaking into my thoughts, “that I’ve met Kelly Jones. She brought cookies over after your dad’s funeral. She’s the spitting image of your mother at a younger age. Ever thought of that?”

A cold feeling trickled through my blood. He’d wanted me to take Kelly to prom because he couldn’t dance with Mom anymore. Some subconscious dream of his own had pushed him to it. He hadn’t seen it. None of us had seen it.

His frustration had nothing to do with me.

“You are no failure, Maverick. You are the greatest success of his life.”

I clenched my teeth, feeling a wave of emotion I’d never given into before. Not since his funeral. It crashed through me. For a second, I couldn’t breathe. Like a rip current, it threatened to whisk me away. I wanted to hit something. I wanted to fall in Dad’s arms and let it all out. Tell him that I’m pissed, I’m sad, and I miss him like the hounds of hell.

I wanted to hold Bethany.

Finally, I managed to swallow and say, “I see.”

“So, what does this mean?” she asked. “What’s next for you if not working for us at Epsilon?”

The change of subject was a lifeline, and I grasped for it. “I’m starting my own company. Correction . . . have started.”

“Competing?”

I snorted. “Of course not. I’ll travel around, find failing brick-and-mortar stores, and resurrect them. Bring money back to the little people. Create success.”

“Blah, blah, blah.”

“Hey, don’t be a hater.”

“I’m not being hard on your idea. Sounds great, to be honest. But you sound as excited as a rock.”

My mind flittered back to Bethany. If she wasn’t part of my day, if I didn’t have her to look forward to, then that adequately described my excitement about the job.

“Yeah. That pretty much covers it.”

“You’re playing small, Mav.”

“I’m trying to figure it out.”

“You’re running. You and your proud minimalism and phobia of commitment. You’re running like a scared toddler, that’s what. And I know what that looks like, because Jameson has been crashing at our place with sweet little Sarah, and that thing is full of fire.”

A sudden grin found its way onto my face. My spitfire niece, Sarah, had just earned her spot of honor on my left arm right before I came. She was fourteen months old, and full of fire was a perfect description. My brother Jameson had earned every second of it after his wild teenage years.

“I’m not running,” I mumbled.

“That alone means you are, and that also means it’s probably a woman. And one who actually stands a chance at meaning something to you. Are you already in love with her?”

I rolled my eyes. How was she always right? No wonder Bethany was annoyed with me so much. It was annoying.

“That’s . . . oddly correct,” I muttered.

“Don’t act like this is my first rodeo. I can hear it in your voice. That bad, huh?”

“I messed it up pretty good this time.”

“Get her back. Then bring her home so I can meet her already. Your mom will be . . . so happy. She worries about you.”

“You’d tolerate her.”

“Sure. Let her prove herself to me first, all right? In the meantime, get it together. Figure out what you really want. And remember, you’re no failure, Mav. I would never have tolerated you otherwise.”

“Thanks,” I said wryly.

“Talk soon.”

She clicked off without another word. I sat in my car until full darkness descended,

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