My mind whirled with the numbers he threw out. I inhaled a shaky breath. “Fifteen acres? You’d need more than Dad’s land. You’d need Beckett’s and the Helmers’ place too.”
“Already put in a bid on the Helmers’ lot.” He spun his watch around his wrist. “The deal’s cooking.”
“Even if Dad wanted to sell, Beckett would never give up his home.”
Carter’s brow raised. “You’ve got a way with both of them. You could convince them to sell if you wanted to. I can cut you in for a share—”
“You again,” Dad said as he approached with two pizza boxes balanced in his good hand.
Carter glanced from me to my dad and back. “I gotta head out. Just think about what I said.”
He strode for the door, leaving the overwhelming scent of his cologne behind him.
“That boy has always been no good,” Dad said. “Didn’t like him when he hung out with Chelsea, and I sure as hell didn’t like finding out he’d taken you to homecoming.”
Surprise kept me from responding as we made our way out to my truck. Dad had been gone so much I hadn’t even realized he’d known about the dance.
“What did the weasel want?” Dad asked once I’d pulled onto the street, heading back home.
“He wanted to know if you’d given any more thought to selling the house.”
“I did think about it. The house has never been the same without your mother in it. She took such good care of it, and I’ve let it deteriorate. She’d be disappointed in me.” His voice turned thick and scratchy. “But then there’d be nothing left for you when I die.”
My stomach cramped at his words.
“You’re not dying!” I said vehemently. “And I don’t want anything from you. Not the house. Not money.”
He reached over and patted my arm as I drove. “I may not be dying today, sweetheart, but I am going to die. I should have stopped smoking a lifetime ago.” He looked out the window, drifting for a moment to a faraway place. “Maybe if I had, she wouldn’t have…” He shook his head. Grief and regret spread across his face.
The amount of pain he showed took my breath away, leaving me unable to respond yet again.
“Anyway,” he continued, “since the fire, I’ve been thinking about it some more. Maybe I should sell the place so you don’t waste any more of your money on it and me. I could use whatever’s left from the sale to move into one of those new-fangled retirement homes. You know the ones where there’s a nursing staff if you need it. I don’t want you having to care for me in the end like you did her…”
His voice cracked, and the pressure in my chest grew.
“Dad—”
He talked over me, “That’s not negotiable, Maisey. I failed you back then. I won’t fail you again.”
My vision blurred, and I had to blink violently to hold back the tears as I pulled in behind Beckett’s SUV.
Turning off the engine, I glanced over at my childhood home and wondered if maybe it would be better for him to sell. If he moved into a retirement community, he’d have other adults around for company, and depending on the type of community, he might not have to cook or clean. If his dementia worsened or he had another stroke, there’d be professionals available to assist him.
But it meant letting go of the last of Mom’s memories. Could either of us really do that?
As we got out of the pickup, I pushed over the lump in my throat to say, “It might be a good idea, but you don’t have to make that decision today. And we definitely should finish the repairs, otherwise you’ll never get the full market value for it.”
“That little weasel offered me top dollar as is. But if I sell our home, it won’t be to someone who’s going to tear it down and put a dozen more on the land your mother loved.”
At least on that, we agreed.
When we got to Beckett’s front porch, he was already at work on the door. He’d wiped some of the paint away with paint remover and was sanding it with a ferocity that spoke to his state of mind. It didn’t seem like any of his anger and frustration had eased in the time we’d been away.
“Pizza’s here,” I said.
“I’m not really hungry. I want to take care of this first. At least get a coat of paint on it.”
He looked up from his work to take me and my dad in, and as if sensing the heaviness that lingered around us, his brows drew together. “Everything good here?”