“It’s about damn time.” A wide grin split his lips, and his eyes twinkled. “You were always meant for bigger and better things. I’m surprised it took you this long to figure out this town is too small for you.”
A wave of dizziness swirled through me. “This town is home.”
“Yes, it is, and it always will be,” he agreed, “but you’ll never grow into your full potential here.”
“You don’t sound…” upset your only daughter is flying the nest “… surprised.”
“You’ve been searching for answers your whole life, and there are none here or you would have already found them.” He sipped tea from his glass. “You’re restless; you have been for years.” He wiped his upper lip dry with his thumb. “You might have settled if not for Jane Doe. She’s the proof you’ve waited on, the mystery solved, and I like to think I know my daughter well enough to understand she won’t know peace until she’s dealt with her past.”
How prophetic his words were for reasons he would never understand. “You’re right.”
“I’m your father,” he said, “of course I’m right.”
“I planned on making this my life, on retiring from the force.” It felt important he understand that. “The idea of leaving home, leaving you, is so new.”
“You’ve been through hell the past few weeks.” Absently, he rolled the pen across the page. “A fresh start, a clean break, might be what you need to heal from it all.”
“What about you?” Recognizing the nervous habit, I reached over and stilled his hand by covering it with mine. “I’ve been working on the house. It’s almost as good as new. You can move back in once the doctor gives you the all-clear.”
The second I hire a part-time nurse to keep an eye on you.
“Well, here’s the thing. I had already made up my mind to sell the place before you moved back home last year. I don’t want to spend my golden years riding my lawnmower across all that acreage, and I can’t afford to bring Flavie on to tend it full-time. I don’t want to knock around that big house alone either.”
Sweat gathered in my palms, and my fingers went limp in his grasp. “Where will you live if you sell the house?”
“Elm Place,” he said with satisfaction. “I went on the tour last year after Dr. Brenner expressed concerns about me living on my own.”
“Elm Place,” I repeated. “That’s the assisted living community behind Edgewater Baptist Church.”
“Yes and no. There are several levels of care available. I qualify for what they call independent living. I would have my own apartment, one bedroom and one bathroom. A cleaning service comes in twice a week. Laundry facilities are on-site. Continental breakfasts are served each morning in the lounge, and they offer room service options for lunch and dinner if you’re not up to cooking. The restaurant around the corner caters to the facility.” He winked. “Residents get a discount.”
“Why didn’t you mention this sooner?” I reclaimed my hands so he wouldn’t notice them trembling. “I thought you wanted to stay at the house. I gave up my apartment so I could help with the upkeep. I thought that was what you wanted.”
“You cancelled your lease and showed up on my doorstep. How was I supposed to say no to that?” His expression softened. “With you there, I didn’t mind staying put. You were a huge help, and you took good care of me, but you’re young. You’ve got dreams of your own to pursue. I don’t mind being left behind, that’s how it’s supposed to go, but I do want to remain on my own terms.”
Woozy, I braced my forearms on the tabletop to hold me upright. “This all seems so sudden.”
“Not at all like my daughter announcing out of the blue that she’s resigned from a job she loves to pursue a new career without once hinting she might level up?”
Okay, so I had no handy comeback for that one. “The farmhouse has been in our family for generations. Your parents died there. You were born there.” I couldn’t imagine a world where that country lane no longer led us home. “Are you okay letting all that history go?”
“You’re my only child, and Harry and Nancy are all the family I’ve got to speak of.” He scraped his thumbnail over the etched design on his glass. “Letting the old girl go will be hard, but this second stroke was a wakeup call for me. I’m not getting any younger, and neither are you.” He sucked on his front teeth. “There’s something else I ought to tell you while we’re being honest.”
“Hit me.” I locked my muscles in anticipation. “I can take it.”
“Looks like CPD will be losing not one but two Boudreaus.” His shoulders squared. “I’ve decided to retire.”
The floor disappeared from under my chair. “What about Uncle Harold?”
“Harry saw the writing on the wall months ago.” Dad let his gaze travel across the room as though expecting words to materialize on the floral wallpaper. “Nancy is hinting at wanting to buy an RV and do some traveling. Both of their boys live out of state, so there’s that too.” He swirled the contents of his glass. “I did my adventuring when I was younger. I’m ready to spend my days on the lake and my nights in a recliner.”
A fillet knife slid between my ribs would have hurt less than this. Losing our home, the only one I had ever known, gutted me.
Focus on the upsides.
Never in a million years would I have considered placing Dad in any type of assisted living facility, but that meant he wouldn’t need the nurse I had been considering for him. The staff there could handle his medications and be warned about his dietary restrictions. Plus, having neighbors meant someone would come running if he called. The fact those neighbors were also human insulated him even more from War and her coterie. While there wasn’t much a few dozen geriatric humans could do against immortal charun, their presence would still act as a deterrent.
Aware Dad was watching me, waiting for a reaction, I forced my lips to move. “I think I’ve gone into shock.” I sat back in my chair. “This is not how I expected this conversation to go.”
“I’m right there with you.” His lips pursed in a shrill whistle. “My baby girl is going federal. Hot damn.”
And my dad was checking himself into a retirement home. Woo-freaking-hoo. “We’re two crazy kids, all right.”
The flatness in my tone sent him ferreting out the cause. “How is Rixton handling the news?”
“We talked it out. He thinks it’s best if I go.” And never look back. “I’m going to miss him. Sherry and Nettie too.”
“He’s still your friend even if he’s not your partner,” Dad soothed. “You can call him up whenever you want, and you’ll be able to visit. Plus, you can do that video chat thing with your phone. That works over the Internet too, right?”
“Yeah, it does.” Desperate to redirect the conversation, I pointed out, “That means you’ll have to learn how to video chat too. We might have to upgrade your tablet.”
“Let’s save that as a last resort.” The corner of his eye twitched, and I almost laughed at his technophobia. “It took me six months to figure out how to turn on this one.”
Back on solid ground, we passed the rest of the afternoon together in blessed lucidity. His keen mind was once again blade-sharp, and he cut more answers out of me than I had intended to give, but I healed a little more each time he lanced those wounds.
Noticing the time, I excused myself and headed down to the station. The Bronco sat lower under the weight of all my gear, or so I imagined. Bags of uniforms, boxes of ammo, my bulletproof vest, my firearm in its plastic case, my badge tucked in its leather wallet with the CPD crest stamped on the front, boots, and a dozen other tiny items tossed into a plastic bin along with my active case files.
An entire career condensed into three trips from the trunk to the shift office.