Page 218 of By A Thread

“Relax,” he said. “It’s good. Really good.”

Yeah. I wasn’t falling for that.

“Oh, gee. Look at the time. I have to go,” I said, pantomiming a watch check on my naked wrist. My neck flared up as I pivoted for the door.

But there was a small crowd of people in scrubs coming through the door and blocking my exit. I already knew my dad’s window didn’t open far enough for a body—safety feature—plus it opened to the inside courtyard, and these were not my wall-scaling shoes.

I was trapped.

A nurse in pink heart scrubs handed me a Congratulations balloon. One with a French braid and librarian glasses shoved a cheery bunch of carnations at me. They were all smiling.

Clearly they had mistaken me for someone else.

“Ally Morales,” nursing supervisor Sandy said, stepping to the front of the little smile mob.

Okay. That was definitely my name.

“On behalf of everyone at Goodwin Childers Nursing Home—”

“Except for Deena,” someone coughed from the back.

“We’d like to congratulate you on being the first recipient of the Lady George Administration Memory Care Grant.”

She handed me a letter, and over the excited buzz, I managed to skim the gist of it.

Congratulations… the first recipient of the Lady George Administration Memory Care Grant… Delighted to inform you that your father’s long-term care expenses… covered in full for the next twelve months…

A piece of paper fluttered to the ground, and I bent to pick it up. It was a receipt for twelve months of care.

I couldn’t breathe, so I stayed where I was, head to knees, and sucked in air.

“How did this happen?” I wheezed.

“The foundation contacted us. We submitted your name for their approval process. And you won, Ally!”

Dad’s care was guaranteed for twelve months. That meant…everything.

I gave up on the whole breathing and standing thing and sank to the floor as an entire nursing staff cried with me.

* * *

Once I recovereda tiny bit of my dignity, after I hugged and wiped my nose on every single staff member there, I spent a joyful hour with Dad. He didn’t recognize me, but he was in a good mood and telling stories about his daughter Ally.

When he started asking what time his piano student was arriving, I decided it was time to head home to get ready for my serving shift.

My steps were lighter than they had been an hour ago. But as relieved as I felt over the unexpected answer to my prayers, my heart still ached.

I missed Dominic. And I hated that. It reminded me of how much I’d missed my mother that first year after she’d left. When I’d still had hope. I’d never really stopped missing the idea of having a mother. But every time the pang arose, it brought with it a bigger, meaner twinge of self-recrimination.

How could I miss someone who had so carelessly hurt me?

I was so busy feeling like crap that I almost walked right by the big house on the corner without my usual daydreaming. And today, I didn’t feel like daydreaming. I didn’t know if I even believed in happily ever afters like the walls of that house held.

As if to add insult to injury, an older couple appeared in the front window. They were locked in one hell of an embrace that didn’t look even remotely grandparenty.

Okay, fine. So happily ever afters existed. Just not for me. The jokester who said it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved was a real jerk as far as I was concerned.

I turned my back on the happy scene and started down the block when my phone clunk-clanked inside my pocket.