“Or maybe she just wasn’t ready to let you go and got mad at you for forcing her hand. But that fight wasn’t your fault, Bree. And it wasn’t hers, either. All of that stuff your mom was holding back, hiding… It’s why I wanted to make sure you started seeing somebody soon. So you could get some peace, maybe head all of that suffering off at the pass.”

While my father takes a sip of his cold coffee and grimaces, then signals for Sheryl, I look at him with new eyes. He’d done all of this thinking and planning and hoping for me, because of the pain he’d witnessed in my mother. Her death had sent him on his own mission to save our family, and I’d never noticed.

I’d never taken the time to notice.

After Sheryl refills his cup and moves on, I ask, “Why didn’t she move us away from here? Then I’d never even know about this school.”

“In some ways, I think your mother couldn’t stand Carolina, but she loved it something fierce, too. Said no matter how she felt about that school, she never could get it out of her system.” He shrugs. “You woulda found out about her graduating from here eventually. Maybe applied anyway, just because she did.”

I take one of the too-small waxy napkins from the metal dispenser. “I think she was right, anyway,” I whisper, and wipe my nose.

He looks up from blowing on his coffee, startled. “What now?”

“About me not being ready,” I explain.

His eyes sharpen, and he clunks his coffee down. “You got that wrong. All wrong. And I thought you were smart. You’re wrong, cuz she was wrong. It was never about you not being ready, kiddo. It was always about her.”

I set my jaw stubbornly. “Stop trying to make me feel better.”

He fixes me with a stern glare. “That’s the truth. She wasn’t ready to let you face the world. But you been ready, kid. She made sure of it.”

He shifts in his chair to dig into his jacket and pulls out a small, square pocket Bible. I recognize the worn, cracked brown leather and the gilded golden edges immediately. It’s my mother’s. The one she carried with her everywhere.

“Flip to the back.” He hands it to me and I take it, pushing my untouched plate of food aside to clear a space on the table. “Probably not something she meant for anyone to see, but…” He shrugs. “I love her, and I miss her, and…” His eyes fill with tears, and he squeezes them and lets out a breath. “I think she’ll forgive us for snoopin’.”