Chapter Twenty-Five

Then

I wouldn’t exactly say I ran away from my mother-in-law’s place, but I was up with the sun and out the door before anyone else in the house so much as turned over in bed.

I was excited to see my dad. There was a part of me that was disappointed Mason didn’t come with me to visit, but I was mostly grateful. I didn’t like sharing my father. There was rarely a time in my life I had to.

Of course we have other family, and I’ve always been okay sharing him with them. But I wasn’t sure how I’d feel if he got into a relationship. I would like to think I’d be gracious about it, happy he had someone special. Doesn’t everyone deserve that? I’d be happy for him. Slightly jealous, but more happy than anything. I worried about him, hated how much time he spent alone.

My dad always told me he wasn’t lonely, that he lived a full and rich life. But all I had to do was look in a mirror at myself. I chose to stay married, partially because I’d taken vows and promised to do that, but also because I was afraid of what would come next. I was afraid I’d regret it if I wasn’t with Mason.

It took about ten minutes to get to my dad’s place and a smile instantly replaced my frown from thinking about all that was wrong with my marriage.

My dad stepped onto his front porch and grinned. I barreled out of the car as if I were a little girl again and ran up to my dad, throwing my arms around him. I felt so secure in his arms. It was still the safest place on earth.

“I’ve missed you, Dad,” I said, inhaling his woodsy scent.

“I always miss you, baby girl,” he said in his gruff voice. “Come have some coffee with me while we watch the forest come alive.”

I reluctantly let him go and followed him inside his cabin. It was such a comforting place. There were only three rooms. One was a tiny bedroom some people would classify as a closet. It only had room for the mattress he refuses to get a bed frame for because he thought it was better for his back to be directly on the floor. There was a tiny closet, but he didn’t own a lot of clothes, just his favorite flannels and waterproof pants for walking in the woods. He always had nice boots because I bought him a new pair every Christmas.

The living room and kitchen combo was small and efficient with a loveseat, a comfy easy chair, and a small table with two wooden chairs. There was a gas stove and small refrigerator. No microwave. He was a simple man.

He brewed some coffee and we took our cups outside and sat on the most comfortable furniture at the place, two plush chairs I gave him for his birthday.

His small back deck was my favorite spot, and I wanted him to enjoy sitting for hours without hurting his back. I curled my feet up under me as I looked into the woods, enjoying the sounds of the critters beginning their day.

“Have you had any cougar sightings?” I asked with a shiver.

“Nope, not in a long time,” he assured me.

“I don’t know how you walk these woods alone. I know you’re a big guy, but it would freak me out,” I said.

“You love the cabin,” he pointed out.

“I know, but that’s because there’s a door I can run through and lock if I feel danger.”

My dad chuckled. “I never lock these doors.”

“Dad, that’s just foolish. You should take your safety seriously,” I lectured.

He laughed again. “I don’t have much. I don’t need much, but if someone really needs something so bad they feel they have to break in, I’ll just give it to them anyway.” He shrugged.

And he’d do exactly that. I wished the rest of the world could be as wonderful as my father. I wished I could be. There’d never be any wars, or famine, or coveting. We’d all live peacefully. I felt slightly guilty about the two-hundred dollar jeans I was wearing. I bought them on sale at least.

“I love how compassionate you are. You’ve always made me want to be a better person.”

He smiled. “I have my vices too, Miranda. No one’s perfect. But I think we’re all better off if we don’t judge others and that includes ourselves. We can’t be kind and good if we’re always looking for the bad. There’s a reason things happen, and if I leave it up to whoever you believe is out there, I don’t have to let it affect me. I know it’s out of my hands. People are going to be who they are. We’re all shaped from the time we begin forming in the womb, and life teaches us lessons if we pay attention. I’m not afraid of the woods. That’s the safest place on earth. Fear holds us back. Love sets us free.”

Tears stung my eyes as I listened to my dad. He always had a way of making me feel better, not only about life, but about myself. I loved him for that. I loved him for so many other things, but especially for that.

“I really need to get down here more often,” I said.

“You know you’re welcome anytime,” he assured me.

“I know, Dad.”

We were quiet for several minutes and he knew I needed to talk to him about something important. He didn’t rush me, just allowed me to gather my thoughts. He’d always been that way. He knew I’d talk to him when my thoughts were done spinning in my brain. He was right.

“Would you think I was an awful person if I left my husband?” I finally asked.

He didn’t answer right away. He kept his eyes on the trees in the distance where a family of squirrels chased each other around the sturdy branches. There were two babies trying to keep up with their parents. It was quite endearing.

“Is he treating you badly?” Dad asked.

Now it was my turn to think about the words. My shoulders sagged.

“No. He’s good to me. Things have just changed. I don’t know what happened. We were so in love, and he always made me feel like I was the center of his universe. Now it seems like we never talk.”

“Have you spoken to him about it?”

I sighed. “No. I’ve been too afraid to do that, afraid he wants to leave me,” I admitted.

“It doesn’t sound like you want to get a divorce,” my dad said. “First of all, there’s nothing you could ever do that would make me think any less of you, whether anyone thinks your actions are right or wrong. No one knows why you’re choosing to make a decision. Second, I think you should talk to Mason. If you have feelings this strong, you need to communicate with each other. You won’t be able to solve anything by blowing things up in your mind.”

A tear fell. “I’m so confused. I don’t know why I’m unhappy.”

My dad scooted his chair a little closer and wrapped a big, strong arm around me. I leaned against him, letting my head fall against his chest. Taking a few deep breaths, I was instantly calmer.

“I don’t know what’s going on in your mind or your heart, baby girl, but I do know you’ve always been a gifted child, and you have a beautiful heart. Don’t keep kicking yourself. If you’re unhappy, you have to try to figure out why. It might not have anything to do with Mason. Maybe you aren’t living your dreams, maybe there’s something else at work. Don’t give up on yourself.”

“I don’t think I’m doing that, but I just don’t know.”

My dad didn’t respond. We sat and finished our coffee as I took comfort in his embrace. My worries slipped away.

“Maybe I just needed to be here,” I said after a little while.

“Coming home is always medicine for the soul,” he assured me.

He was absolutely correct. I knew it wouldn’t matter how old I got. Whenever I was with my dad I felt like a little girl again, needing his protection. I truly was blessed that I could still come to him.

“Don’t ever leave me, Dad,” I said, suddenly feeling panic at the thought of not having him in my life.

He chuckled then spoke softly. “There will come a time I’ll have to take a journey into whatever is out there,” he warned. More tears slipped. “But I promise you I won’t leave you. I promise I’ll always be here, and even if you can’t see me, you can always talk to me.”

I was too choked up to say anything for a very long time.

“I’m going to stay for a while today.” I couldn’t pull myself away, didn’t want to leave the safety and magic that surrounded my father.

“You can stay as long as you like. There’s no one else I’d rather be with and nowhere else I want to go,” he told me. I knew he meant that.

I just didn’t realize the years were already slipping away . . .