Page 23 of Almost Beautiful (Beautiful 3)

“Do you want to read it?”

He shook his head. “It wasn’t for me.”

I pulled out the thin paper from the envelope, my eyes tracing Mom’s delicate handwriting. “I know. It’s kind of like hearing from her again. It reads just the way I remember her.”

He looked surprised. “You remember her?”

I nodded. “It’s fuzzy, but yeah. Bits and pieces.”

Dad thought about it for a moment, and then nodded, waving his hand toward him. “Okay, then. Bring it over.”

I jumped up, handed the paper to Dad, and then returned to my seat on the couch.

Dad blinked a few times, trying to focus, and then, seeing her words on paper, his bottom lip began to tremble. He rested his chin on his hand to try to mask his emotion, but then he blinked several times, and his eyes began to gloss over. A smile touched his mouth, he shook his head and chuckled once.

Dad lowered the letter with one hand, and then wiped his eyes with the other. After a full minute, he cleared his throat and then looked up at me.

“It’s been a long time. It was good to hear her voice again. Even if it was just in my head. Thank you, son.”

I nodded. “I miss her, too. All the time.”

He laughed again, wiping another escaped tear. “I miss her every moment of every day. For damn near seventeen years. And the way you look at Abby”—he sighed—“that’s the way I looked at your mother. My God, did I love that woman. I’d never felt anything like that before ... and never since.”

My eyebrows pulled in. “Do you think I’m going to lose her, Dad?”

“Abby?”

I nodded.

Dad touched his lips with his fingers, and then looked down at the floor.

I couldn’t move or breath while I waited for the answer.

He finally leaned forward again and looked me straight in the eyes. “Travis, I hate to break this to you son ... but your wife? She’s stronger than you. You’d leave her before she’ll leave you.”

His words knocked the wind out of me, and after I couldn’t keep my expression straight or my eyes dry, I covered my face, letting the relief wash over me in waves.

Dad was never wrong, and I trusted him with my life.

I looked up at him. Because I loved my wife, I was going keep the truth from him. And because of the love he’d felt for my mom, I knew Dad would understand.

Chapter Seven

First Breath

Abby

ADVERTISEMENTS CLUTTERED THE CORK BOARDnext to the exit of Reiger Hall, all with headers likeFor Sale, In Search Of, andHelp Wanted, and at the bottom, numbers cut into strips. An ad near the top had official school letterhead and a list of subjects.

I narrowed my eyes, read the fine print, and then ripped off a tab and put the phone number in my pocket. The school was looking for tutors and Calculus was one of the subjects.

Halfway into second semester, and the books and supplies in my backpack were weighing me down, cutting into my shoulders. I didn’t realize I’d be married and looking for a job when choosing my classes before winter break. I hopped a bit as I took my first step toward the exit, trying to shift the straps to give the indentions next to my neck a break.

The early spring air hit my face the moment I stepped onto the concrete steps outside. Coats in every style and color peppered the sidewalks, a patchwork setting students apart from our gray surroundings. I looked up at the sky, feeling mist instantly cover my face. It had either poured or spat rain all day. The morning fog was just beginning to move on.

“Hey!” America yelled, jogging toward me. She waved, her bright smile the only sunshine. She stopped in front of me, holding the loose straps of her backpack at her chest, breathing hard. “The sorority girls are going nuts. I love it.”

“What do you mean?”