I wished that were true, but pride sang through me anyway. Was this why I couldn’t cut Dad out of my life entirely? His scraps of affection made me feel special. I hadn’t wanted to marry a guy like my dad. But I’d married one who made me feel the same way. A guy who put his life and everything in it first, but when he turned that focus on me? Addicting.

Our food arrived and Dad dug into his omelet and hash browns. I used a fork on my jumbo double chocolate muffin. I’d backed off this type of breakfast, the kind that was actually a piece of cake in disguise, but since leaving Aiden, I had it at least once a week. Maybe two. Or three.

I finished before Dad did and dug out my phone. “I recorded some of the kids’ wrestling matches. Want to see?”

“I hate to rush off.” Dad pushed his plate away and dug a couple of twenties out of his wallet. “But I gotta be in Bismarck by tonight. Send them to me and tell the boys I’ll catch them next time?”

I never told my brothers anything of the sort, and I wouldn’t wonder if he’d watch the videos. Wrestling was Randall’s thing and Dad probably harbored some bitterness of his own. “Sure. I might stay and finish my Diet Coke.”

Another short visit with Dad. I always hoped for more. Like I had with my marriage. For four years. Was Dad why I had accepted similar neglect from my husband?

“Tell your mom and Randall hi.” Dad leaned down to kiss me and the aroma of cheap vanilla air freshener washed over me. Truck stops and vanilla-tree air fresheners would always remind me of Dad. And I was afraid that was all I would have of him.

He rushed out the door to his semi parked at the far end of the lot, loaded with mattresses to deliver later tonight. How many more of these last-minute lunches was I going to sit through? How many more was I willing to sit through?

My glass was refilled and I watched out the window as everyone came and went. What else should I do with my day? These were the weekends that made me miss working Saturdays and Sundays. I’d been at the library long enough that I only worked one weekend every six weeks unless I picked up a shift for someone. I would’ve, but no one took time off in the winter. The boys didn’t have a wrestling tournament and I had nothing to do but hunt for apartments.

I moved ice around in my glass with the straw, searching my brain for errands to run. The obvious one was finding a place of my own, but my stomach clenched and my throat grew thick whenever I thought of apartment hunting.

“Katie?”