She shrugged. “See Natalie maybe.”

“I can get you a job interview with the new regional director at the Four Seasons,” he said.

He desperately wanted her to stay in Santa Barbara and, since she had come home, he had pestered her to meet with a slew of hotel bigwigs.

“Dad,” she said. “No.” She wasn’t sure where she wanted to be in the fall. Her program director had said she could take up to a year off, so she had formally withdrawn for the spring semester, but she wasn’t ready to return yet. She had come home to be with him, but there was that other reason as well.

“I’m not going to be an assistant to the assistant of the guy who makes sure the McCormicks from Duluth have enough mineral water in their room,” she said

He raised one eyebrow at her. “You’re funny,” he said.

She brought the plates to the table. “Eat your eggs.”

He ate and read the paper, and she watched him. She couldn’t remember a time the whole family had eaten together at the kitchen table. They would have dinner in the dining room with its stiff high-back chairs and towering china cabinet, or she would eat alone in the kitchen, hurriedly scarfing down breakfast before school. “You want more coffee?” she asked.

“No, no, I have to go.” He stood and kissed her on the head. “I’ll be home around ten; call me on the cell if you need anything.”

She grabbed his hand. “Dad.”

He looked at her.

“I”—she stumbled over the words—“wanted to talk to you.” She had already let a week go by. She had planned to sit him down in the kitchen that first night, say it simply and quickly and without hesitation. But this hadn’t happened, and every day that passed made it harder and harder.

“Okay.” He stood, puzzled. “Should I sit down?”

“Yes … no.” This was not the time to do it. He was running off. She had told Natalie she would call her at nine. And he didn’t need to know. But he did, or she needed to tell him, she didn’t know which, but it didn’t matter anymore. She had made a decision. “I need to tell you something.”

“Anything, sweetie,” he said. He smiled and squeezed her hand. It felt warm and solid, and she pulled away. “It’s about Matthew,” she said.

His face fell, and she realized that the only way was just to say it, and she took a deep breath.