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THIRTY-SEVEN

MICKEY

A cold sweat broke out on my neck as I followed Dad into the Flynns’ kitchen.

It was modern with a lot of chrome appliances and shiny surfaces, but still held the warmth of a family home full of cherished memories.

Bows wrapped the cabinet doors and ceramic Christmas figurines stood among the flour and sugar containers.

The sound of television commercials continued, and I heard Amos speaking in hushed tones.

Since no one followed us into the kitchen, I suspected Amos was asking everyone to give us privacy.

When I’d told him this morning that I’d hoped for an opportunity to talk to Dad, he’d been completely supportive.

I grabbed the edge of the counter next to the cheese plate Amos had helped me prepare earlier. “Dad, thank you for what you did last night. I can’t express how much it means to me, and I know it does to Amos too. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”

Dad stood on the other side of the counter. “It was overdue, kiddo. I’m sorry it took me so long. I have a bad habit of holding on to things longer than I should, but at least there are no more secrets.”

My knuckles turned white with my grip. “Not quite.” My pulse accelerated.

Dad tilted his head and gave me his full attention.

“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to say.” My voice shook, but I pulled strength from Amos’s encouragement and support. “I don’t want to take over the diner.”

Bracing myself, I waited for Dad’s shock or anger—disbelief, something. Instead, he nodded in resignation.

“Ingrid’s been warning me about this. Your mom did too.” He shook his head. “Maybe one of these days I’ll learn to listen to the women in my life.”

That startled a laugh from me.

Dad came around the counter and pulled me into a tight hug.

In his arms, I was the tiny child who kept waiting for my dad to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up.

I never got to tell him that I wanted to be an archaeologist because he’d talked to me about taking over the diner not long after Matty died.

Now, I understood that had probably been how he’d processed his grief.

“I wish I would’ve understood how to be a better parent all those years ago.

My mistakes are crystal clear as I’m getting older.

I put a lot of pressure on you, but I didn’t mean to.

Not that I’m trying to make excuses.” He dropped his head.

“When we lost Matty—” He cleared his throat.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m happy to run Red’s as long as my body and brain allow, then we’ll figure it out.

I don’t want you spending a lifetime doing something you don’t want to. ”

My eyes fell closed as I tried to control the emotion overcoming me. I’d been waiting to hear those words from Dad for so long.

“I’m not planning to stop working there right away, but I’d like to ease up on my hours to dedicate more time to Mystic Rind.”

Dad’s expression turned serious as he nodded.

“Of course. I was being serious about carrying your cheese, by the way. I get too stuck in my ways sometimes. It took Sparky’s doing what I couldn’t to make me understand.

Beth always knows how to get me to pull my head out of my ass.

” Dad reached over and plucked a piece of cheddar I’d let age for six months.

I grinned. “We need to find someone who loves the diner to take it over. I’ll help you find that person. Just because I don’t want to run the show doesn’t mean I’m not invested in Red’s sticking around for several more generations,” I said earnestly.

“It’ll take us a while to find the right person. Someone who loves this town as much as we do and has a passion for serving food and chatting their days away.”

At Amos’s loud laugh from the other room, Dad and I looked in that direction.

Dad tipped his head significantly toward the living room with his eyebrows raised.

I nodded and grinned. The solution had been staring me in the face, but I supposed I couldn’t have allowed myself to even consider it until everything was out in the open.

“Maybe the perfect person is right under our noses.”

Amos cautiously entered. “Sorry to interrupt, but there’s about to be a mutiny on our hands if we don’t get some of Mickey’s cheese into their bellies.” He studied our expressions and an adorable wrinkle formed in his brow. “What did I miss?”