Turning my head to the side, I watched him. I loved him so much. He was steady and serious, told the absolute worst dad jokes in the world, and he’d never been the most handsome guy in the world—slightly thinning hair as long as I’d remembered, and a belly he could never quite get rid of. Until he was sick, then it disappeared. But in him, I’d always seen the very best kind of husband and father.
He loved us so well.
“I think with all the builders in this family, we’ll be able to make you something good,” I said quietly.
He closed his eyes. “That sounds nice. Make sure Ian comes home for that, okay? And Parker doesn’t keep acting like an asshole.”
I snorted. “You think I can control my brothers?”
Tim opened his eyes and settled his warm gaze on me. “They all listen to you, Adaline. You know that.”
My face went warm. “No, they don’t.”
He hummed. “Sure they do. When your mom and I first got married, I remember thinking that she had such an easy way about her. She didn’t yell or scream or holler, but the people around her listened all the same because they could sense how much she loved them.” He smiled. “You’ve got that too. You took care of everyone, didn’t matter if they were older or younger, because that’s what you’re good at.”
“Everyone needs a talent,” I said lightly.
But he didn’t smile. “I just want to make sure you’re not here taking care of everyone to your own detriment.”
I forced a smile. “I’m not.”
“You’re a terrible liar, Adaline Marie.”
“I’m not lying,” I hedged. “I want to be here. I like cleaning up the house so Mom can take care of you. I like taking you to your doctors’ appointments. Making dinner so she doesn’t have to think about it.”
His eyes were so kind, filled with the type of wisdom that cut through every ounce of bullshit like a knife. “You love that boy, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” I whispered. My eyes spilled over.
“Maybe?”
I nodded jerkily.
“Then why aren’t you with him?” He spread his arms out with an incredulous shake of his head. “I’m sick, but I’m not dying yet, Adaline. The reason I’m not putting any of that shit in my body anymore is because it won’t make it go away. Not this time. And I want to enjoy my family with the weeks and months I have left. I want to go on walks with your mom and go up to Seattle and see my grandbaby whenever Lydia gives birth. I want to see you happy. If I get to walk someone down the aisle before I go, even better. And I can enjoy all that so much more when I’m not puking and sick and fighting the thing that’s supposed to be helping me.”
This time, the tears fell for a totally different reason. “I’m here because you have always been there for us, Dad.”
His eyes watered. I didn’t call him Dad very often. I never had.
I swiped fiercely at my face. “You were at every recital and every play and every sporting event. Taking obnoxious amounts of pictures before we left for prom. Teaching us how to drive way earlier than Mom wanted you to. Teaching us how to hold a gun the right way and how to kick a guy in the balls if he touched us inappropriately. You did everything. For all of us, and you didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to, sweetheart,” he said, leaning forward. “That was my privilege as your stepdad. When I married your mom, I was lucky enough to get you and Greer and Erik. I don’t think I can ever put into words what it’s like to have a second chance at love when you’ve already lost someone.”
“And isn’t my privilege to help take care of you now?” I said. “You … you chose to be there for us. Most men w-wouldn’t have. I’m not going to choose to leave you.”