Feeling unaccountably morose, she told herself she was just tired after a long day’s work. She gathered her things, let herself out and carefully locked the front door.
After the short drive back to town and a forty-five-minute stop at her office to check mail and phone messages that hadn’t been routed to her personal cell, she headed for home. She had a date tonight with a favorite TV show, some leftover spaghetti and her comfy sofa.
But the plan changed when she found her father camped out on her doorstep. It looked as if he had been sitting there for a while, because he had an empty beer bottle at either hip. His eyes were bloodshot. Though he stood when she walked up the path to the small duplex she called home, he was unsteady on his feet.
“You changed your locks,” he said, a look of bafflement on his florid face. Harold Winslow was short and round with salt-and-pepper hair and skin weathered by the Texas sun. Once upon a time he had been a successful businessman. But when his beloved wife died, his alcoholic tendencies had taken over.
Hugging him briefly, she sighed. “I’m a grown woman, Daddy. I like my privacy. You don’t seem to understand that.” She had tried her best not to fall into a codependent relationship with her only living parent. But that was easier said than done.
The trouble was, Mellie felt his pain. Ila Winslow had been the center of their lives. When cancer took her away from her husband and sixteen-year-old daughter, their world had caved in. Harold found solace in whiskey. Mellie had been forced to grow up far too quickly.
Harold followed her into the house. “Any chance you might fix dinner for your dear old dad?”
She counted to ten beneath her breath, keeping her back to him. “We can order a pizza. I’m beat. I was planning to eat leftovers.”
“Pizza works. You got any cash? I left my billfold at home.”
It was an old game they played. Harold could live comfortably off the rents from the properties he still owned. But money slipped through his fingers like water through a sieve. When he ended up broke again and again, he came knocking at Mellie’s door...sometimes figuratively, but more often than not, literally...like tonight.
Swallowing her disappointment at having her hopes for a peaceful evening shattered, she managed an even tone. “Go ahead and order what you want. I’m going to change clothes.”
By the time she returned to the living room, her father was sprawled in a recliner, the television remote in his hand. He gave her a smile, but behind it she thought she saw despair. His existence was aimless. No matter how hard Mellie tried, she couldn’t get him to understand that his life wasn’t over. She loved her dad, but once in a while, it would have been nice to lean on him instead of always having to be the grown-up.
Dinner arrived soon after. She paid for the two small, fragrant pizzas and tipped the young man, wondering if the fact that she and her father couldn’t even agree on toppings was proof that she would never convince him to see things her way.
They ate in silence, the television filling the void. Finally, she finished her meal and decided it was now or never...a conversation that was long overdue. But she would come at it indirectly.
“I started a new job today, Daddy. I’m going to be cleaning and organizing for Case Baxter.”
Harold raised an eyebrow. “The new Texas Cattleman’s Club president?”
“Yes. Having him as a client will be a coup, I think.”
“I’m proud of you, baby girl.”
For once, she thought he meant it. “Thank you.” She paused and said a prayer. “I’m doing well, Daddy. Keep N Clean is solvent and growing.”
He nodded. “Good for you.”
An awkward silence descended, but she forged ahead. “We need to talk about last week.”
Immediately, his face closed up. “I’m fine,” he muttered. “Quit worrying. I don’t drink as much as you think I do.”
“Sheriff Battle found you passed out in the street.” She hesitated, dreading his reaction. “I’d like to pay for you to go to rehab before it’s too late.”
“I hadn’t eaten breakfast. My blood sugar was too low. I fainted, that’s all.”
“Daddy, please. I know you miss Mom. So do I. Every day. But at the rate you’re going, I’m likely to lose you, too.”
Harold lumbered to his feet and stood with what dignity he could. “There’s nothing wrong with me. Surely a man can enjoy a couple of beers without getting a lecture.”
It was more than beer. A lot more. And the alcohol abuse was aging him rapidly. “Just think about it,” she pleaded. “It won’t be so bad. I’ve read about some beautiful places right here in Texas. I want you to be healthy and strong so you can play with your grandchildren one day.”
Her father snorted. “You don’t even date. That cleaning company of yours won’t keep you warm at night. Maybe you’d better quit worrying about me and find yourself a man.”
It was exactly like Harold to go on the attack when she tried to talk to him about his drinking. “I’ve got plenty of time for that.”
For a split second the naked pain in her father’s heart was written on his face. “We all think we have plenty of time, Mellie. But love isn’t a permanent gift. Losing it hurts. I’m pretty sure that’s why you don’t let any man get too close. I’ll make you a deal, darlin’... When you get your life in order, I’ll let you muck around with mine.”
She stood at the door and watched him go...his gait slow but relatively steady. He’d had his driver’s license revoked time and again. Fortunately, the home where Mellie had grown up and where Harold still lived was centrally located in Royal, making it possible for her father to walk to his destinations for the most part.
As she showered and got ready for bed, she pondered her father’s words. It was true that she rarely went out on a date. She’d told herself that getting a business off the ground required determination and hard work. But did it demand the sacrifice of any kind of personal life?
Her pride stung a bit to know that her father had pegged her so well. In her desperate need to get him to admit his failings and seek help, had she overlooked her own response to grief?
Over the years, she hadn’t cared enough for any of the men who populated her modest social life to let them get too close. Channeling her energy into Keep N Clean kept her focused. Romance would only get in the way of her life plan.
Ordinarily after a hard day, she was out by the time her head hit the pillow. Tonight, though, she couldn’t get settled. Her father seemed increasingly out of control, and she didn’t know what to do to help him. He was an adult...with resources. So why did she feel responsible for his actions?
Reaching for a more pleasant subject, she reminded herself that tomorrow she would have the opportunity to spend more time in Case Baxter’s beautiful home. It had personality...and history. Bringing it to its full potential would be a pleasure. Not to mention the outside chance she might run into the man himself.
He’d given her a set of keys along with his permission to come and go as she liked during the day. According to Case, he was going to be very busy at the club and also with the ranch. She got the distinct impression he planned to make himself scarce as long as she was working in his house.
Something about that notion made her feel weird and discouraged. Case was exactly the kind of man she found appealing. It hurt that he wanted to avoid her.
Thumping her pillow with her fist, she rearranged the light blanket. The cold would come, but for now, her bedroom was stuffy.
She was finally almost asleep when her phone dinged quietly, signaling a text. Groaning,