Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81401 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
It’s well after dinner when I finally make my way into the house. There’s a note on the counter from June saying my dinner is in the refrigerator and that she’ll see me in the morning. The rest of the house is quiet, making me feel like the biggest dick in the world.
Any man would be blessed to have a woman like Zara kiss him, to make the first move, and believe me I was until my brain started warning me about rebound sex and the complications of screwing your houseguest.
With my dinner now warming up in the microwave, I pull out my cell and call the girls.
“Hi, Daddy,” Willow says on the first ring. It warms my heart knowing that she was waiting for me to call and hearing her voice really puts me at ease.
“Hey, baby girl. What are you doing?”
“Watching Memaw try to dance. Stormy is teaching her some hip-hop moves.” She laughs, and it’s the most calming sound in the world.
“Oh boy,” I say, laughing right along with her.
“What’d you do today?”
“Zara and I took the horses out for a walk, and I just finished giving them a bath.”
“I miss Abby.” Her voice changes from chipper to solemn in a second.
“She misses you too, but you’ll be here soon.”
There’s a long pause, and for a minute I fear that Stormy has convinced her that living in California is best for them. Not that I can blame my oldest for thinking that since her career choice is heavily present there, but in my eyes, they’re still growing up and need to be in their home.
“Daddy?” Willow’s voice drops to a whisper.
“What’s wrong, Willow?”
“I want to come home now.” Hearing her say this, tugs at my heartstrings. I want nothing more than to bring both my girls home now.
“I know you do, and believe me, Willow, this is where I want you.”
“I won’t bother Zara if that is what you think.”
“It’s not. I promise. I’m trying not to disrupt the lives you’ve been living.” Knowing that Willow is ready to move home is a relief.
“I’ll be there next week. I’ll tell Memaw to have the moving company drop some boxes off, but you start packing.”
“Okay, I will. Who do you want to talk to?”
“Stormy, please.”
Willow pulls the phone away and yells for her sister. There’s laughter in the background, which puts a smile on my face. I’m happy that the girls aren’t wallowing and are enjoying their time with my mother, although I can’t imagine she’d let them mope around all day either.
“Hey, Daddy.”
“Hey, Stormy. So I wanted to talk to you about selling your horse. With me traveling and you living there, she’s not getting the attention that she needs.” I hate saying this to her, but feel that it has to be done. She’s skirted her responsibilities with her horse for far too long, and it’s not fair to the animal, although I can’t imagine I would sell her.
“Um. . .”
“She needs to be ridden, Stormy, and I just don’t have the time.”
“I don’t want to sell her, though, Daddy. I mean. . . she’s mine, and I love her.”
“What do you suppose we do?” I ask, putting the ball in her court. I want her to make an adult decision here. Granted, she’s only fifteen.
“Well, you talked about us moving back, right?”
“I did, but you didn’t seem too thrilled with the idea.”
“I’m not, but. . . you did say we could find a dance company out there.”
“I did. In fact, I believe Barb is already looking.”
“It’s just. . . I don’t want to be stuck doing country music videos. No offense.”
“None taken, Stormy. I’m sure Barb knows this and considering that she loves you like her own child, she’ll find the best for you. Before I left, I told you that I want you and your sister back here. This is your home, regardless of where you’ve been living. Do you have any auditions coming up or a recital?”
Stormy laughs. “We rehearse a lot, but we don’t have recitals.”
“Oh,” I say, clearly not in the know.
“But I don’t have any auditions coming up either.”
“So maybe now is a good time to move?” I should be ashamed of this tactic, but I’m not. I have no shame when it comes to helping my oldest see that being in Nashville is where she belongs. When she’s done with school, if she wants to move back and pursue dancing, I’ll gladly pay her way, but until then I want her home.
“Stormy, I know you’re having doubts, but look at it as a fresh start. Your mama. . . she’s not there to help you. I can’t be there all the time, and neither can Memaw, and you’re far too young to live by yourself and too old to have a nanny.” The father in me wants to tell her that she doesn’t have a choice, but I can’t bring myself to say those words to her. It’s not her fault that her mother made a bad decision.