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.She reached for the greenfolder on the coffee table, knowingJonette would have made notes for her. All s well.No complications. Good. Everly studied thespirometer readings Jonette had jotteddown in the file.The results hadn timproved, but they weren t worsening. We ll see what Dr.Valdez has to saywhen we go see her next week. Are you just going to ignore me? Glancing at her father, she said, Idon t see how that s possible.I was justchecking on my grandpa.Is that okaywith you? Well, haven t you turned into therude little bitch? The heat in her cheeks flamed to a painful level as she bit back her retortfor her grandpa s sake. Mason, that was uncalled for, hergrandpa said in a firmer voice than shewas used to hearing from him. Youcan t expect her to fall over herself toplease you when she hardly knows youanymore. I can absolutely expect it.I m herfather, for God s sake. By DNA only, she snapped,unable to stop herself.Then she took adeep breath and let it out. Will you bestaying for dinner? I have to know howmuch food to make. I m staying through at leastChristmas, he said.Her jaw clenched and she had to force it to relax. You re in town for aweek? At least a week, he clarified. Where are you staying? Here, of course.I don t have anymoney to spend at a hotel.I spent what Ihad on the plane ticket. She realized her fingernails werebiting into her palms and made a point ofloosening her fists.He d stayedelsewhere on his other visits, which hadmade things a little more tolerable.Thisspelled disaster. We only have two bedrooms, sheground out. Mason can use my bedroom, hergrandpa offered. I sleep in this chairhalf the time, anyway. Nonsense, her father said,surprising her.Then his gaze turned toher. Everly s young.She can sleep onthe couch. Although her nostrils flared, shedidn t argue.She sensed her grandpa sgaze on her and worked hard to containher expression. Unless, of course, you want to offerme money for a hotel, her fathercontinued. I understand that you vecome into quite a windfall. Her gaze moved to her grandpa.Shesaw the guilt on his face. Pee Paw, she said, her voiceshaking. What did you tell him? That you re working with ColeParker, her father said. And he s paying you well for your services. She couldn t believe her ears.She dimpressed upon her grandpa howessential it was that he not tell a soulabout her arrangement with Cole.Howcould he have told her father?Thinking fast, she looked right intoher father s eyes and lied. Yes.Cole Parker approached me afew weeks ago about creating a personaltraining regimen specific to pitchers.Hisbrother, Wyatt, is one of my mentors atschool and suggested that he reach out tome.And, yes, I was paid well for it. You re speaking of him in the pasttense, her father said. That s because I completed theproject. Is that right? Her father s blueeyes gleamed. Then where did yousleep last night? Once again, she looked at hergrandpa.He wouldn t meet her gaze.Sighing, she said, I was with Cole. So you re still working with him? her father pressed. Not exactly. Now, her father smiled. Mydaughter s dating Cole Parker. The sentence felt sacrilegious as ittouched her ears.She wanted to shout athim, tell him that he wasn t allowed totake pride in something so significant toher, but she knew it wouldn t help.Instead, she headed for the kitchen. I ll take the couch, she said over her shoulder. And if you think you reasking me for money while you re here,you re in for a terrible disappointment. * * *Her mood had shifted from dour todeadly by the time dinner was done.Herfather spent the entire meal talking abouthis life in Venezuela, repeating thingshe d already shared in his last fewletters.Not once did he ask about hisfather s health or daily well-being.Theonly time he asked her any questionswas when he tried to pry informationabout Cole from her, which she refusedto answer.She ate her soup andsandwich as quickly as she could andthen excused herself to her bedroom.When she reached her room, she saw her father s suitcase already beside thedoor.His presumption just fueled heranger.Storming into her room, she gavehis suitcase a sideways kick as shepassed.It was a petulant act, but it feltdamn good.Then her eyes fell on the framedposter hanging on the wall above herbed.Wyatt had given it to her the yearbefore for Christmas.It was anautographed print of Cole in the middleof a pitch.Even though she now knew that ithadn t taken much effort for Wyatt to getthe autograph, it was still her mostprized possession.She thought it mightkill her to have her father sleepingbeneath Cole s image for the next week. In fact, it really would.Climbing up on her bed, she pulledthe frame down.Then she carried it overto her closet and hid it as best as shecould.She didn t know whether herfather had already been inside her room,but she didn t care.It was none of hisbusiness why she d taken the posterdown.She spent the next thirty minuteschanging her sheets and gathering heressentials into an overnight bag that shecould keep in the family room.She hadno idea what her father s daily routineconsisted of, and she didn t care enoughto ask.After packing all of her toiletries,her pajamas, and an outfit for the nextday, she made sure there wasn t anything else in her room she didn t want herfather finding.There wasn t.Shecouldn t decide if she was grateful orsad about that.Once her father and grandpa retiredfor the night, she gathered her beddingand headed to the sofa.She had juststarted tucking a flat sheet around thecushions when her cell phone rang.Diving for the phone on the chargerplugged into the wall, she read theCaller ID.Cole.Her mood instantlylifted as she clicked the accept button. Howdy, she answered. Why are parents such a pain in theass? he replied.A smile caught the corners of hermouth. A more appropriate question has never been uttered. Seriously.I got the full gamut today.I had to listen to my dad explain why heand my mom opted for lemon sherbet onthe walls of the new home officewhich used to be my room, by the wayinstead of lemon ice.He couldn t evenexplain why paint colors are named afterthings like sherbet. One of life s mysteries, shecommiserated as she finished tucking anedge of the sheet under a cushion. Right? Then it was all about whythey wanted the nickel finish on the guestbathroom s fixtures instead of thechrome.Do you want to know why? I m on the edge of my seat. So was I.It s because my Aunt Bertha yes, I have an actual auntnamed Bertha doesn t like to see herreflection warped on any surface.Whohas that kind of hang-up, for the love ofPete? She held back a laugh. Who sPete? Don t ask.Mom says it all the time.When I m around her for more than anhour, I start sounding just like her.It smortifying. Ah.Well, that kind of hang-up mustbe agonizing for poor Bertha.Think ofall of the chrome in public restrooms. The last thing I want to think aboutis Aunt Bertha in the bathroom. Now she did laugh.Then sheclapped a hand over her mouth and looked down the hallway to thebedrooms.There was only darknessunder her bedroom door, she wasrelieved to see
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