Page 33 of The Inn Dilemma (Give a Bookish Girl a Biker)

Chapter Twenty-Four

Nova

D ad standing next to me, waiting to order lunch from a food truck, is a tangible expression of how hard he is trying to be the dad I’ve always wanted him to be. Nothing extravagant, but simple and caring.

He looks around, a forced smile on his face. “Well, this is a bit different, isn’t it?”

A real smile stretches across my cheeks at the beautiful park setting. A group of teenagers throws a frisbee behind us.

“They have the best chicken sandwiches and cauliflower bites,” I say, glancing at the menu even though I already know what I’m ordering.

“I’ll have what you’re having,” he says.

We finally reach the front of the line and place our orders at the counter. As soon as we step out of the way and wait for our food, Dad focuses on me.

“You ordered that knowing I’d probably order the same thing.” His eyes turn watery. “And it’s all foods that are on my diet. ”

I shrug. “Guilty. But all of that is actually really good and made from scratch.”

In an unexpected show of affection, Dad reaches across the space between us and grips my hand. “Thank you.” This time, the smile he wears is genuine.

“Nothing to thank me for, Dad.”

He searches my eyes, and it looks like he wants to say something, but he sits back, removing his hand from mine.

I shove down my disappointment and ask, “How did your appointment go?”

Dad’s face falls and he shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk about that right now.”

“Well, I do. I want a solid relationship with you and Mom. And talking about hard things will help do that.”

He looks up at me, and the look he gives me takes me back to my childhood. It’s a look that stops me in my tracks. “I really don’t want to talk about this, Nova.”

I do my best to give him a placating smile. “Okay.”

We grab our food after they call our name and find a picnic table. “So how are things at the inn going?”

“Good,” I say in a voice that sounds cheerier than I’m feeling. “We just have two rooms left to finalize and I have a mural to finish. We’re hoping to have the reopening in a couple weeks.”

“That’s great,” he says. It’s clear he doesn’t genuinely care about the progress, but showing interest is at least a step in the right direction.

We bless the meal before digging in.

Dad practically devours his sandwich before starting in on his cauliflower. I’ve only eaten half of my sandwich and a few bites of my cauliflower before Dad is dabbing his mouth.

I raise an eyebrow at him as I slowly chew. After swallowing the bite and taking a sip of my water, I ask, “So, was that okay?”

He rests his hands against his stomach. “It was delicious.”

I giggle. “Or maybe you were just extra hungry.”

“I’m ready to talk about my appointment now.” He switches the topic so fast it gives me emotional whiplash.

“Oh?” I ask, putting my sandwich down and wiping my hands on my napkin.

Dad takes a deep breath and releases it. “Things aren’t looking good. Each day is another day closer to dialysis or…” The unspoken phrase hangs between us—complete kidney failure and eventually…death.

The idea I’ve been praying over takes complete root, and I’m more sure about it than anything else in my life.

“I’m sorry, Dad. That’s never good to hear.”

He shakes his head. “Dialysis means my entire life changes. My schedule will revolve around my appointments.”

“I get it,” I whisper, then push my plate away. Any traces of my appetite are gone. “We’ll keep praying for a miracle.”

“I’m not too good at prayer, but that’s what I’ve been asking God for too.” He gives me a sad smile.

“God may not always answer our prayers how we want or expect Him to, but He does always answer them.”

Dad reaches across the table, and I give him my hands.

All of this is so unfamiliar and unexpected.

It’s a reminder of God’s goodness and that the words I just shared with Dad are true.

A few weeks ago, I never would have imagined sitting here at a diner having lunch with Dad, talking about faith in Jesus, or talking at all.

Even when our relationship looked hopeless, God was working in the background, doing things only He can. And in this moment, I know for a fact what I have to do.

After saying goodbye to Dad, I go for a walk through town, praying for continued clarity on what God has planned for me. For continued healing of broken relationships and marriages.

As I pass a couple sharing a kiss outside the cafe, I’m reminded of my kiss with Holt.

I turn around and head over to the Storybook Inn.

I told Aunt Birdie I’d be back at work today, but didn’t specify what time.

When Dad suggested we go out to eat, I let her know.

It’s time I get back to the mural. And maybe even have a talk with Holt.

On my walk there, my prayer transforms from my relationship with my parents to my relationship with Holt. I ask God to lead me and guide us to the path He has designed for us. I’ve been in too many failed, ungodly relationships to fall into yet another one.

But Holt is different. We have history and a friendship that was rekindled with minimal effort. Most importantly, we both have Jesus. If I’ve learned anything in my short time as a Christian, having Jesus walk beside me is way better than trying to walk the path on my own.

I narrowly avoid tripping on a bump in the sidewalk right in front of Mountain Auto Repair where Reese is probably working. I take it as a sign to visit my friend first.

Going in through the main door, I see the back of Lewis’s salt-and-pepper head before he turns. The bottom of his belly pokes out from beneath a too-tight T-shirt.

“Hi Lewis, where can I find Reese?”

He takes a bite of his sandwich and answers around his chewing. “She’s working on the Mustang.”

“Thanks!” I say before slipping into the garage.

Reese’s jean-clad legs stick out from beneath a Mustang.

Her feet move to the beat of the song she has playing over the speakers, which mixes oddly well with the sounds of her work.

The shop is cleaner than it was the last time I was here.

All the tools are hanging on the wall instead of scattered over the tables.

I assume she took the time to do this last night to distract herself from her horrendous date.

“Who’s there?” she calls out.

“Me, Nova.”

The sound of metal against metal halts before the squeak of wheels can be heard as she glides out from beneath the car.

She sits up and wipes her hands on a nearby towel, then stares at me skeptically. “You look terrible.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You look weighed down.”

“You mean I look weighed down because I kissed my brother’s best friend and his face filled with immediate regret?”

She rolls her eyes. “I told you already, that was not instant regret.”

“Well, regardless. ”

Her brow raises. “So, what are you going to do about it? You pinky promised you’d talk to him. Today.”

Crossing my arms over my chest, I say, “Well maybe I need a little more time.”

She stands from her car creeper. “Why?”

“I don’t want to do even more irreparable damage to my friendship with him.” Tightening my hold on myself, I add, “I can’t lose him.”

She rests her hand on my shoulder and forces me to meet her eyes. “You’re not going to lose him. What you guys have runs deeper than that.”

I turn my face away and release a tense breath. “I hope you’re right.”

“You need to talk to him. He cares about you. Like I told you last night, that kiss was planned, and if you talk to him like an adult, there could be many more kisses in your future.”

I turn back to face her and she wiggles her eyebrows.

My belly swoops at the thought. Has Holt wanted to kiss me? Or is this Reese just daydreaming for me?

“Even if that’s true.” I shrug, attempting to feign nonchalance. “Holt deserves someone better than me, and eventually, he’ll realize that too.”

Reese rolls her eyes so intensely I’m afraid they won’t make their way back around. “Come on, Nova.”

“What?”

“Whether you think you’re good enough for Holt or not, he doesn’t care enough to stop the inevitable.”

“And what, pray tell, do you believe is the inevitable?”

She gives me a deadpan look. “Are you really going to make me spell it out for you?”

I settle my hands on my hips.

Reese ticks off her fingers. “Marriage, then babies. Lots and lots of babies.”

I feel my cheeks flush. “What?”

“I’m not sure how you can’t see it, but that man is head over heels for you. Like I said, that kiss.” She fans herself. “Had me blushing! It was the perfect distraction from my scumbag of a date too.”

Covering my face with both hands, I attempt to hide the redness I know is there.

She gently pushes my shoulder. “Go talk to him. What’s the worst that could happen?”

My arms fall to my sides. “I could make a complete fool out of myself and ruin a lifelong friendship.”

“Well, don’t rush in there and throw yourself at him. Just be yourself, act normal, and see where the conversation and situation take you.”

I point at her. “I’m trusting you on this.”

She gives me a sassy smile. “You will never go wrong with trusting me on anything.”

“We’ll see about that.” I turn to leave.

“Call me as soon as you’re home and tell me everything. And I mean…everything.”

Without turning around, I know she ended her statement with a wink.

“Stop!” I say with a wave of my hand, then turn to face her again. What I’m about to say dies on my lips when a clean rag hits me in the face.

“Get out of here and go get your man.”

I laugh at her antics. “See you later.”