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Must Love Flowers(50)

Author:Debbie Macomber

With her mind set, she waited until her name was called. She paid for the prescription and headed home. As she parked in front of the house, she couldn’t remember any aspect of the drive, as she was distracted by the consequences of her father’s illness.

When she entered the house, the first thing she noticed was her father sitting in front of the television with a beer in his hand.

“Al,” she cried. “You were supposed to make sure Dad didn’t drink.”

Al raised both arms in defeat. “I couldn’t stop him.”

Her father’s look was stubborn. “Told you earlier, I’m not giving up beer.”

“Yes, you are.” Maggie said, so angry tears filled her eyes. “I just forked over nearly seven hundred dollars for this prescription. That was my entire paycheck and now I have nothing. I worked hard for that money, and I refuse to let you waste it.”

“How much?” His eyes revealed his shock.

“You heard me the first time.”

His face crumpled and tears filled his eyes. “Why would you do that?”

“Why?” she cried. “Because you’re my father.”

He blinked several times and seemed to close in on himself. “I…I don’t know that I can give it up.”

“You can; you have to. There are places and people who can help you. If you promise to do your best, I’ll try to get you into a rehab center. You can’t do this on your own, Dad; you’re going to need help. I’ll do everything I can to help you, too.”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” her father insisted.

Maggie shook her head. “Deny it all you want, but your liver says otherwise.”

He lowered his gaze to the beer can he was holding. “I…I can’t, Maggie, especially without your mother and now you…”

He didn’t finish what he was going to say. He didn’t need to; Maggie already knew. “I’ll move back home,” she said, knowing that was the only thing she could offer that would convince him to give up drinking.

His head shot up. “You will?”

More than anything, Maggie hated the thought of leaving Joan, but she couldn’t see any other option.

A tear leaked down his cheek. “If you do that…move back, I mean, then…then I’ll consider it.”

“I’ll help, too,” Al claimed.

“How you going to help me?” Roy demanded.

Al stood up from the sofa, removed his tattered ballcap, and spoke as if stating a solemn vow. “I promise I won’t drink in front of you.”

Her father snorted. “A lot of good that’ll do.”

“Dad,” Maggie said, chastising him. “Al is your friend, and if I understood you right, you told me he’s your only friend.”

“I never said that,” her father lied.

Maggie looked to Al and whispered, “Yeah, he did.”

Roy shook his head. “And I haven’t decided if giving up my one joy in life is worth you moving home. You’re too much like your mother.”

“I consider that a compliment.”

“You should,” he snapped back, mulling over the decision.

Al grinned, and Maggie noticed he had a gold tooth in front. “Thank you for being a friend to my dad. He’s going to need one if he keeps to his promise.”

“Cry me a river,” her father barked. “Both of you leave me be. I need to think this through.” Al started out the front door, but Roy stopped Maggie. “You serious about moving back home?”

“If you agree to go into rehab. After your body has adjusted to going without, if I smell or see you with a beer or any other alcoholic beverage, I’m gone.”

He heaved a sigh, signifying this was a weighty decision.

“And if I’m paying for your prescription, I won’t be paying you rent.”

He looked her in the eyes then and nodded, indicating that was understood. “Okay, it’s a deal. When you plan on moving back?”

“Soon, Dad.”

“Good, and when you return, bring me a Whopper. Now get, the both of you. I’m a sick man and I need my rest.”

Chapter 28

Joan was too upset to think clearly.

Maggie had returned from the hospital, and even before Joan could ask what had happened, Maggie started up the stairs.

“My dad is sick and needs me. I hate this, but I can’t desert him now. I need to move back home.”

Joan followed her, attempting to make sense of what had just happened. “This is rather sudden. Have you thought this through?”

“It isn’t what I want, Joan. I love living here with you, but I can’t ignore my father when he needs me.” Maggie tugged the suitcase from beneath her bed and started opening and closing drawers as she pulled her clothes out to place inside the one piece of luggage. “He has to stop drinking or it’s going to kill him. I enabled him for far too long. I knew when I gave him money he would spend it on alcohol. I should have stood my ground. I’ve got to find somewhere for him to detox; he’ll never be able to do it on his own.”

“Oh Maggie, you can’t blame yourself.”

“I don’t. Dad is the one who chose to drink, not me. I know him well enough to realize if he’ll ever find the way to recovery, he’ll need my support and encouragement.” Rehab would help and AA, too, but she was his only child, and he would need her at his side as much as possible.

“Aren’t you putting his problem on your shoulders?” Joan asked.

The tears ran unrestrained down Maggie’s cheeks. “This isn’t forever, Joan. I’ll set boundaries with him so that he understands and make sure he accepts the consequences. I’ll be there to watch his diet, too.

“Believe me when I say I hate to leave you, I really do. Living with you has been life-changing for me. I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done.”

Edison stood in the doorway and barked as if he, too, was distressed.

Maggie picked up the puppy and kissed the top of his head. “I’m going to miss you both so much.”

Joan felt like weeping herself. Maggie had changed her entire world. She couldn’t imagine the young woman returning to the ramshackle house and her alcoholic father. While Maggie felt she had to move, Joan feared it would all be for naught. Having her move back was exactly what Roy wanted, and he’d use every means available to make sure she stayed there. Her heart hurt just thinking about Roy’s coercion tactics.

Maggie wiped the moisture from her face. “I…I told him I’d move back home to help him, but if he drinks again I’ll leave.”

“Maggie, don’t you see he’s manipulating you? Your father would say anything to convince you to come back.” All Joan knew of Roy Herbert she’d learned from Maggie and their one meeting.

Maggie paused in her packing. “Moving home wasn’t his suggestion, Joan, it was mine.”

“Yours?”

“My relationship with Dad hasn’t been the best since Mom died. My leaving was a good thing, and now we have the opportunity to make it something better.”

Joan wanted to believe Roy Herbert had come to appreciate his daughter since her move and missed her. This seemed far too convenient for him to have this epiphany when he needed Maggie to care for him. It may have been selfish thinking on her part, but Joan didn’t trust the man.

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