LORETTA DROPPED HAZEL off at her in-laws’ on Friday night after she closed the bookstore, then went to deliver a few books to her parents. Her mom had wanted a book for herself and a couple for her dad, who had been ill this past week. Which meant the purpose of her stopover at her parents’ was twofold, since she wanted to check in on her father. It wasn’t like him to be sick.

She knocked twice, then turned the knob. As was typical, her mother had unlocked the door for her, so she opened it and walked inside. Her dad was in his favorite recliner watching television. He barely looked her way, just nodding when she came in.

Loretta went over and kissed her father on the cheek. “Hi, Dad. I hear you’ve been sick.”

“My diabetes is acting up again, and those docs can’t seem to get my meds right.”

More likely it was her father’s predilection for sweets coupled with stubbornness about sticking to a proper diet that was causing the problem, but she didn’t intend to argue the point with him. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well.”

He shrugged. “I’ll be fine soon enough. Always am.”

Her father was overweight, pigheaded as could be about his diet, and always thought he knew better than anyone in the medical profession. Loretta wanted to tell him to get off the recliner and go for a walk and start eating better, but she’d never argued with her father one day in her entire life. Today probably wasn’t the day to start.

“Hi, honey.”

She smiled as her mother entered the room. Her mother, on the other hand, still looked perky and youthful at fifty-five. She always wore a smile, which astounded Loretta, considering her mom had spent the majority of her adult life with the grumpiest man in the universe.

“Hi, Mom.” Loretta straightened to give her mother a hug. “How was your day?”

“Oh, it was good. I went shopping with Lee and Peggy, then we had lunch. I stopped at the store to get a few things for dinner. Can you stay?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t tonight, but thank you for the invitation. Some other time. I brought the books you asked for. I laid them on the bench by the door.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you get that new James Patterson I wanted?” her father asked.

“I did.”

“And the history book?”

“Yes, Dad. I got that one, too.”

“Not the World War II one, but the other one.”

“Mom gave me the specific titles.”

“I hope you didn’t screw it up like the last time.”

She looked over at her mother, who gave Loretta an apologetic smile. “I’m sure they’re the right ones, Anthony.”

Her father’s only response was a grunt.

“Can you stay for a glass of iced tea?” her mother asked.

Loretta nodded. “I’d love to.”

She followed her mother into the kitchen, realizing nothing had changed in here since she was a little girl. Same square white tile floors, same pale blue countertops, same oak cabinets.

“Have you ever thought about renovating in here?” she asked as her mother handed her a glass of tea.

Her mom took a seat next to her. “I thought about it, but your father says it’s a waste of money. He said everything works, and making it pretty and modern is frivolous.”

Her father would say that. “But what do you want, Mom?”

“I’m perfectly happy with the way things are.”

She’d wager her mother would like a fancy new kitchen, one with an island and more space, but God forbid her mother ever contradict anything her father said. That’s the way things had always been, and likely the way they always would be.

“And what are you doing this evening?” her mother asked.

“I . . . have a date.”

Her mother’s brows rose. “A date? So soon, Loretta? You’re barely past your divorce.”

“Tom and I have been divorced over a year, Mom.”

“Yeah, and that was a big mistake,” her father grumbled.

Loretta wasn’t surprised that, despite the television blaring in the living room, her father was listening in on their conversation.

“It wasn’t a mistake, Dad, and I told you why we got a divorce.”

His father half turned in his chair. “No, you got a divorce. Tom didn’t want one.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know he cheated on me, right?”

Her dad gave a half-assed grunt, then shrugged. “He asked you to forgive him.”

“He married her, Dad. He already had one foot out the door with the next wife. Come on, surely even you could see that.”

Her father didn’t have a response to that, so in typical fashion, he grunted again and resumed watching television. Loretta turned to her mother. “Why is it always my fault?”

Her mother patted her hand. “Your father sees things in black-and-white. People get married, they stay married, no matter what.”

Frustration ate at her, making her stomach twinge. “Tom would have asked for the divorce eventually. At least this way I got a nice financial future for Hazel and a place for her and me to call home.”

“Of course you did, honey. You did what you thought was best. We just feel that if maybe you had waited, you and Tom could have worked things out.”

“That wasn’t going to happen. Ever. My marriage to Tom was a mistake from the very beginning.”

She waited, hoping for something, anything from her mother. She knew her father would never say it, but she always held out hope that someday her mother would apologize for pushing her into a relationship—into a marriage—that had been a mistake from the start.

Nothing. Her mother sipped her tea and talked about what she’d had for lunch earlier while she was out with her friends, while Loretta hid her disappointment. Again.

“So who’s the guy you’re goin’ out with tonight?” her father finally asked.

Loretta could have made up a name, but she was just irritated enough to tell the truth. “Deacon Fox.”

Her dad straightened in his recliner. “What? Why the hell are you going out with him again?”

“Because he asked me. And because we’re seeing each other again.”

“Oh, honey, do you really think that’s a good idea?” her mother asked.

“I think it’s a fine idea. I really like him. And he’s somehow managed to forgive me for what I did all those years ago.”

Her dad made his way into the kitchen and gripped one of the kitchen chairs. “You shouldn’t be seeing him. Not after what he did to you.”

Loretta shot a look of disbelief at her father. “What he did? Don’t you mean what I did? I’m the one who dumped him, Dad. I’m the one who broke his heart and left him for another guy. I’m the one who has had to ask for his forgiveness.”

Her father’s brows knit into an angry frown. “You don’t owe him nothin’. You were kids. You changed your mind.”

She stood. “No, you changed my mind. You and Mom both. You berated and cajoled me and told me what was best for me until I had no choice but to make that decision. It wasn’t what I wanted—it was what you wanted.”

Her mother stood and put her hands on Loretta’s shoulders. “Loretta, we did what we thought was best for you at the time. How could we have known how it would turn out?”

“You couldn’t. Neither could I. And some of the fault lies with me. I could have said no, and I could have stood firm. I didn’t, and that’s on me.”

“Yeah, so don’t go blaming us for your decision makin’,” her father said. “But I still think Tom was the best choice for you. Look at where he is now. Some day you could have lived in the White House.”

As if that ever mattered to her. “I just wanted to be loved. My daughter needed a father who would be there for her, who would love her unconditionally no matter what. Things like that are important to a child. But you would probably never understand that, would you, Dad?”

He advanced on her. “Don’t you ever speak to me like that again.”

Loretta had had enough years of being the dutiful daughter, of saying and doing all the right things, of taking the blame for everything that had happened. “Or you’ll do what? Make me marry another man I don’t love?”

Her mother got between her father and her. “Now, you two, don’t fight.”

She felt the trembling in her mother’s body and knew it was time to back down. “No, Mom, we won’t fight. I’m leaving.”

She grabbed her purse and walked out the door, hating that she’d left things with her parents this way. But she realized that confrontation with her father had been a long time coming.

As she got into her car, she turned on the engine and let the air-conditioning cool down her anger some. The old Loretta would go back inside and apologize.

But she wasn’t the old Loretta anymore, and sometimes with growth came pain. She respected her parents, but she wasn’t going to continue to be a doormat any longer. Not to them. Not to anyone.

Maybe she was finally growing up after all.