26

Tuesday morning, Celia took the coward’s way out and called Brock to schedule vacation time for the rest of the week. He didn’t like that she was hiding. It was no way to face the issue, but after hearing how horrible she sounded, he didn’t argue the matter further.

The rest of the day she spent moping around her apartment, alternating between anger and fits of upset.

Wednesday, she packed a bag and headed for the one place she knew she could lick her wounds in safety. Her dad’s house.

He took one look at her and held out his arms for a giant bear hug. She needed it.

Never had the comfort of home felt so good to her than now.

He sat her down and cooked her a huge breakfast, because in his book, there wasn’t anything that couldn’t be cured by a big, home-cooked breakfast.

All the time she ate, he sat beside her, eating his own food in silence. He didn’t pry or demand answers. It was what she loved most about him. He never intruded into his children’s lives. No, he didn’t have to. He