When she wasn’t caring for her father, Maggie had spent every minute doing what she could to make the house livable again. She’d scrubbed and cleaned as best she could. After three trips to the garbage recycling center, the house’s interior was in the best shape it’d been in since before her mother’s passing. That, however, wasn’t nearly enough. Not with a leaking roof and a badly needed paint job, front steps that were crumbling, and a multitude of other problems.
“Things have a way of righting themselves,” Joan told her. “Don’t lose faith just yet.”
“I’ll try not to.” But it was hard. Her father was sober, and that was a step in the right direction. Maggie would be risking everything if he lost his sobriety. She wasn’t entirely sure he understood the full ramifications of what getting this loan would mean.
“Have you heard from Nick?” Joan asked.
Maggie swallowed down her disappointment. With everything in her, she desperately hoped he’d have a change of heart. Clearly, he’d meant what he said, and they were finished. Although she tried to put him out of her mind, it was impossible. She’d given up hope of hearing from him and wondered how the trivia team was doing without her. That he could so lightly dismiss her from his life told her everything. Her heart was broken, but she had more problems than an ill-fated romance to occupy her mind. Nick was avoiding her. No longer did he frequent Starbucks. It was as if he’d completely wiped her from his life. That he could walk away so easily proved he hadn’t felt nearly as strongly for her as she did for him.
“Maggie?” Joan asked, breaking into her musings.
“No, nothing,” she answered, trying hard to hide the hurt. “Have you?” Maggie had resisted asking Joan, not wanting to draw her friend into the middle of her and Nick’s disagreement.
“Not a peep,” Joan said, her words heavy with sadness. “I’d thought one of us would have heard before now. Don’t lose faith. My son can be stubborn as a mule, if you’ll excuse the cliché. I believe in time he’ll come around. He cares about you.”
Maggie wanted to believe that, too, but she had serious doubts.
“How’s your dad today?” Joan asked, changing the subject away from Nick.
“Better, I think. He’s miserable and cranky.” Her father cursed until he lost his wind and could barely breathe to lambaste her, the world in general, and all creation.
To his credit, even with the cravings and physical discomfort, Roy had remained determined to stay sober. Maggie could only pray that same resolve would carry him through each day for the rest of his life. She could handle his mood swings knowing that was the release he needed from his discomfort. Twice in the last week, he’d taken her hand, looked at her with tears in his eyes, and whispered, “Thank you.” Both times, Maggie had to battle back her own tears.
Keeping his word, Roy had attended an AA meeting every day, even when he insisted they were no help. He still wanted to drink. Nevertheless, he’d gotten a sponsor who had fifteen years’ sobriety. Maggie had met Lyle and liked him. Like her father, Lyle had been addicted and had nearly lost his family. Lyle was an encourager and had done his best to help steer Maggie to the rehab center that had been life-changing for him. He’d even called the facility himself to help smooth the way.
“I need to go.” Maggie was reluctant to end their conversation. Even with helping her father as best she could, she still needed her job. The Starbucks manager had given her every shift she’d asked for and had been understanding. Maggie was grateful.
“Do you need me to stay with your dad?” Joan asked. She’d come twice in the last week, giving Maggie a badly needed break, helping with Roy, cooking, and encouraging Maggie. Joan wasn’t someone who would put up with Roy’s attitude and had put him in his place, reminding him of the sacrifices Maggie had made on his behalf.
“Al’s already here.” Maggie told her. “He’s been a trouper and he’s kept his word. He doesn’t drink in front of Dad, and although he hasn’t told me, I have a suspicion he’s attended a couple of AA meetings with him, too.”
“Good for him. Your father needs his friends now more than ever. I might stop by anyway to check on things, if you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. You’re welcome anytime.”
After disconnecting the call, Maggie returned to the house, where Al sat with her father. As she came through the door, she overheard the two men talking and caught the last of their conversation.
“Maggie’s getting a loan on the house to pay for that fancy place she feels I need. Every time I feel the urge to drink, I realize if I do, I take the chance of losing her and my home, too. I’ve lost too much already.”
Sober a week and already Roy was more of a father than she could remember from her entire childhood. She wanted to believe he was sincere, and that with the help of AA he would find the wherewithal to turn his life around.
“What are you doing?” he demanded, along with a few snide comments about people who listened in on conversations.
Maggie ignored him and collected what she needed for work. Her father might be sober, but he was no Mr. Rogers.
“I’m getting ready for work,” she answered. She kissed him on the cheek, smiled appreciation at Al, and headed out the door.
* * *
—
Phil’s father glanced up from the book he was reading. He sat in his recliner, his feet crossed at the ankles, looking far more relaxed than Phil felt.
“Something on your mind, son?” he asked.
Phil ceased his pacing. “No, why?”
Setting the novel aside, his dad carefully studied him. “You’ve been fussing about the house ever since you returned from the dentist. Dr. Shaffer give you news of a root canal?”
Phil grinned. “No, all is well with my molars.”
His father knew him and recognized the signs of Phil’s restlessness. He might as well spew what was on his mind. “I was at Joan’s property today.”
“Joan? Oh, right, she’s that must-love-flowers gal you mentioned a time or two.”
“Right. She wants to help Maggie and her father and intends to drive over there on her own.”
His dad nodded as if he knew exactly who Phil was referring to. Phil was certain he’d never mentioned the details of Maggie’s ordeal with her father.
“I’m not sure what Joan has in mind, and frankly, I don’t like the idea of her heading over to the Herberts’ house by herself.” Plus, he had an inkling this wasn’t the first time Joan had gone out of her way to help Maggie with the girl’s father.
His dad cocked his head to one side and frowned. “Seems like a simple solution to me. Go with her.”
He’d stepped in between Maggie and her father once before. That was true, but things were different now, with Roy fighting for sobriety. Phil had no idea what the other man’s mood was, and was worried Joan could be walking into a hornet’s nest.
Phil had concerns. “What about—”
Before Phil could explain, his father cut him off. “Don’t worry about dinner; it’ll keep. Go help your friend and put your mind at rest. You jumping up and down every few minutes is starting to bug me.”