“Love is never perfect,” he said. “You young people still have a hard time accepting that. You’d rather head for divorce court than work it out.”
I started to cut in, but he overrode me. “I’m not saying it wasn’t warranted in Barry’s case. But if you’re lucky enough to have it come your way again, to find someone who loves you more than he loves himself, well…” He threw up his hand. “But what am I telling you this for? You’re the hero. You do what you want.”
“Labor under correct knowledge,” I muttered.
“What is?”
“Luck.”
“Exactly what I’m saying.”
“You know what I want? I want to get away from here for a while. Go to some hot, dry desert where there’s not a drop of water.”
“Got any travel companions in mind?”
“I was thinking of you.”
“My dance card is all filled up.” He motioned toward my bag. “But I bet if you pull out that phone of yours, you might find someone who’d be thrilled to come with you. Especially if you feed him a home-cooked Thanksgiving dinner.”
“Dad, I’m sure he’s made other plans. He probably won’t even take my call. I’ve—I’ve been pretty awful to him.”
“Why don’t you let him decide that?”
“If I were him I wouldn’t take the call.”
“Then it’s good you’re not.”
“Even if he did talk to me how could he get here in time? It’s Wednesday night.”
“They have these things called airplanes, Ellie,” he said. “Last I heard, they still fly on Thursday morning.”
I considered it. Then I stood up. I thought I saw a twinkle in Dad’s eye when I pulled out my cell, but with him you can never be sure.
“Maybe you should try him at his office. Maybe he’s working late.”
I felt my eyes widen and punched in the number.
A female voice answered. “Good evening, Mr. Linden’s office.”
My eyebrows shot up. I took a breath. “Is—Is he there? It’s Ellie Foreman calling.”
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