“Dad?” The screen door squeaks as I enter the house. The television is on, his chair pulled out, but he's nowhere in sight. “Dad?”

My stomach pulls as I head through the house. The hair on the back of my neck is standing on end, the result of the odd vibe in the home I grew up in.

The dining room looks normal, everything in place. I turn into the living room and call out again, “Daddy?”

My mom’s Christmas cactus sits beneath the window undisturbed. The throw pillows that I don’t think have been moved since I moved them last are perched where I left them. The remote control is on the armrest of the recliner. Dad is gone.

“Dad!” I’m digging in my pocket for my phone when I let out a shriek. “Ah!”

I fall into the wall, a picture of me as a little girl shaking against the paneling with the force. “You scared the crap out of me!”

Dad stands in the bathroom doorway, looking shaken. A yellow washcloth is held over his forearm, a small scrape marring his cheek.

“What’s wrong?” I gasp, getting to my feet and rushing towards him. My heart is pounding, veering out of control.

“Oh, nothing,” he grumbles. “I fell out in the garden. Didn’t see the rake and went sailing into the zucchini.”

“Are you okay?” My purse hits the floor with a thud. Much to his dismay, I peel back the cloth and take a look. The wound isn’t deep, but looks nasty anyway. “Did you put stuff on this?”

“Yes,” he sighs like I’m ridiculous. “It’s a scrape, Ellie.”

“Is your face okay?” I reach to touch it and he pulls away.

“I’m fine.” With a shake of his head, he marches by me. Grabbing my purse, I sling it over my shoulder and follow him.

“You don’t need all that zucchini anyway,” I huff as we enter the kitchen. “Just let it rot to the ground.”

He sits in his chair in the kitchen, slumping in defeat. He refuses to look at me, so I know I have to tread lightly. He clams up if he doesn’t want to talk. If that’s the case, I could sit here for ten hours and get not a word from the stubborn man.

So, I change tactics. “How’s the garden? Besides the damn zucchini,” I ask, sliding into the chair by the fridge.

“Tomatoes are coming out of my ears. Want some?”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t take his eyes off the television. “I put a bag on the porch hoping you’d come by. Better use ‘em up quick.”

Picking up a lighter on the table, I fiddle with it. I’ve had an edgy, distracted twitch all day.

After Ford dropped me off yesterday and I told him I had a headache and he should probably just go home, I’ve been a ball of nervous energy. There’s an overwhelming feeling that I’m on the cusp of a major fall and I can’t stop it. That no matter how hard I claw away at the rocks on the face of the cliff, it won’t make a difference. I’ll free fall anyway.

“Finished painting Halcyon today,” I tell my father. “It looks really good. Want to take a ride and see it?”

“Not today, pumpkin.”

Tossing the lighter on the table, I lean back in my chair. “How did you know Mama was the one?”

He seems intrigued I’m asking this by his raised brow and tight lips, but doesn’t call me out on it. He doesn’t ask if this has anything to do with Ford, and I don’t volunteer it.

“Your mother was the only one.”

“That’s sweet, Daddy.”

“Maybe, but she was the only choice I could make.”

“You mean to tell me no one else wanted you?” I tease. “I thought I heard something about you being as handsome as they come, and Mama saying you looked like a hunkier Sam Elliott?”

He grins like he always does when he thinks about his younger years. “Well, I did have my pick of ‘em. Ladies were lined up from here to Atlanta to get a look at your Pop. One night I had three dates with three different women.”

“You were a man whore,” I gasp. “Daddy!”

“I was indeed,” he grins proudly, “but that was before your mama came to town.” He looks back at his Western. “There used to be a place you could go and watch a show for a dollar and a half. I was there one Friday night and there she was, sitting on the tailgate of Buddy Loren’s truck. Prettiest thing I ever saw.”

“Did she just leap off the truck and run to you like they do in the movies?”

He snorts. “It took me six weeks to get her to go on a date with me.”

“That man whore reputation probably sunk you,” I point out.

“Probably. But I got her to agree eventually.” He looks at me again. “I knew she was the one a few weeks after our first date. I was down by the coast, looking over the water and the sun was setting. The sky was this purple color and I remember standing there thinking how beautiful it was and I wished she was there to watch it with me.”

I wait for more, but he just looks at me. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” he shrugs. “That’s the moment I knew that I wanted to share all the things in my life with only her. That’s really what being The One means, ain’t it?”

“Oh, Daddy,” I sigh.

“I reckon you’re asking me this for a reason.”

“Maybe.”

I pick up the lighter again and start fiddling with it. “His brother is going to run for office again.”

“I saw that on the television. They were talking about him being eyed for the Presidency.”

“Yeah.”

“Why does that have you bothered?”

“I’m pretty sure it would affect Ford too. Like, he’d have to go off with Barrett and do those things. Maybe even move to Washington if he won.”

Dad just looks at me.

“Well?” I ask. “Don’t you see?”

“See what?”

I look at the ceiling. “I’ll be honest with you, Daddy. I love him.”

“I know you do.”

“But …” I look at his handsome, wrinkled face. “But I don’t know if I’m willing to put everything on the line for someone that just takes off when they feel like it.”

“He hasn’t gone anywhere.”

“Not yet,” I scoff. “But isn’t the past the best indicator of the future? Isn’t that what you used to drive into my head growing up?”

“You know what I loved most about your mama?”

“Absolutely. Her pot roast. Everyone knows that.”

He cracks a smile, but stays focused. “What I loved the most was that she let me … evolve. Try new things. Remember the time I had that ponytail?”

“Those pictures will never be shown to your some-day grandkids,” I say, making a face. “That was horrible!”

“It wasn’t the best,” he laughs. “But your mother didn’t say a word. She let me pick mushrooms when I really should’ve been mowing the lawn and she didn’t say a peep when I wanted to switch careers from the railroad to truck driving. Then I got hurt and that was over before it started,” he notes. “But the fact of the matter is, she let me grow.”

“So what you’re saying is, I should just let Ford do what he wants because I’m the girl?”

“Hell, no,” he laughs. “The rest of my speech goes a little something like this: she let me evolve, yes, but I always listened to her. I always heard her feelings out and we compromised. I didn’t always get what I wanted, but I got the chance to be heard. Marriage is a delicate balance, Ellie Dawn.”

“Whoa,” I say, holding my hands out. “Let’s not start talking about the m-word.”

He flicks the mute button on the television and pushes the remote a little off to the side. “Do you have an inkling that you want to see someone else?”

I don’t. Not a bit. But the look on his face, the severity of his features, keeps me from replying.

“There’s nothing guaranteed in this life, pumpkin. I’ve lived a long one, seen a lot of stuff. There’s not a thing you can say for sure you’ll have in the morning. Not even another breath. That can be paralyzing when you think about it.”

“That’s true,” I say softly. “It’s a weakness of mine, actually. I get to thinking about what tomorrow will be like and I just get scared. I’m afraid to make the wrong choices. I’m afraid of being hurt.” I look at the table, cuts from knives and dinners and burns from pots and pans over the years scuffing the surface. “I fear regret.”

“You can’t do that. You can’t let fear of the unknown make you stop living.” He begins to blink rapidly as a wet sheen sweeps across his eyes. “Don’t turn into me, Ellie.”

“That wouldn’t be a terrible thing,” I say over the lump in my throat.

“If you do one thing for me in your whole life, I want you to do everything. All the things you’re scared of, all the things I wish I did.”

“Like date four men at once?” I tease.

He chuckles. “No, like not getting stuck at a nine-to-five. Take vacations. Get sunshine … and get your mail.” His voice cracks and I fight tears but they come anyway. I have no idea what’s sparked this from him, this sort of life manifesto or whatever it is, but it’s killing me to see him in this way.

I reach to pull him into a hug but he bats my hand away. “What I’m saying is for you to figure out what puts a smile on your face and give that a try. Try new things. Let Ford try them too. If it’s a mistake, then you’ll know and you don’t have to wonder. Besides, life is entirely too short to live with so much caution you’re frozen.”

Considering his words, the truth literally hurts. It stings my chest, makes tears well up in my eyes. “I think Ford does that, Daddy. He puts a smile on my face.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” he whispers. He moves the cloth from his arm and I see that it’s stopped bleeding.

“Let’s go to dinner,” I offer. “Let’s do something outside of this house.”

“Thank you, pumpkin, but I’ll stay here.”

“But you just said …”

“Go on,” he grins. “Have a good dinner and tell that boy I said hi.”

“You’re more than welcome to come,” I insist. “We can go get a barbecue sandwich at Porter’s.”

“I’m tired. My back is starting to hurt a little bit so I’m going to go to bed.”

I stand and kiss him on the head. “I’ll come check on you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be fine,” he sighs.

“Behave and I might even bring you a sandwich tomorrow,” I wink before heading to the door. Before I push it open, I hear him say my name.

“Ellie?”

“Yeah, Daddy?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”