He made a sound of agreement.
“Watch your head when you stand,” she warned as she opened the freezer door. “Was chicken on sale? I think you bought out the store.”
“No.” He carefully retreated, ducking his head until he could straighten without braining himself. “I just know you like it, so…” He shrugged, not meeting her eyes.
“I do. Thank you.” She finished stacking the packages in the freezer. Picking up a pound of ground beef, she hesitated and then put it in the fridge, instead. “I’ll use that to make your favorite meatloaf, as long as you picked up some jalape?os?” She glanced down, loving how the fruit and veggie drawers were full of colorful things. Frozen vegetables and canned fruit were fine, but nothing like fresh ones.
“No.” Her dad gathered the empty bags, still avoiding eye contact. “I mean, I did get jalape?os, but I won’t be here for dinner tonight.”
“Hot date?” Although she felt mild disappointment, it was nothing like she would’ve felt even a week ago. She still missed her dad, but she’d been having plenty of company, and that seemed to have filled the usual void of loneliness.
He shook his head. “New job.”
“Oh.” That was quick. Typically, he stayed several days or even a week before heading off to the site of a new project. “Another one in Connor Springs?”
“This one is south of Parker. Huge new house with ground-source heating and cooling, PV and passive solar, wind—pretty much every alternative-energy system they could think of, except for conservation. Ten thousand square feet, including a turret. Rich people are nuts.”
Her smile was slightly forced. “It’s going to be a long one, then, huh?”
He shot her a sharp look. “Don’t be laying a guilt trip on me for working.”
“I’m not.” She focused on smoothing a bag of Tropical Skittles. He’d gotten all her favorites. “I’m not. I’ll miss you, but I made some new friends.”
“Yeah? That’s good.” His expression softened slightly, although it remained wary. He nodded toward the box she’d carried inside and its slightly bigger mate. “Come see what else I found for you.”
She’d forgotten about the mystery boxes, and she made an excited sound that was embarrassingly close to a squeal. She loved presents. Unfolding the flaps on the box she’d left on the counter, she sucked in a breath.
“Oh, Dad! These are awesome!” Daisy carefully pulled out one of the vintage children’s books that filled the box. “Where’d you find these?”
“The Connor Springs library had one of those fundraising sales, where people can donate books.” She nodded, still focused on the box’s contents. From her first quick peek, the books looked to be in great condition. Daisy couldn’t wait to list them online. “That box was five bucks. I was going to text you a picture to see if you’d be interested, but I wanted to surprise you.”
“These are perfect—thank you!”
“There’s another box, too.”
“Oh!” Daisy quickly returned the books she’d pulled out of the box and headed for the second one. “I totally forgot about Box Number Two.” She used her game-show announcer voice, but her dad just looked confused.
Shrugging off her failed joke, she opened the flaps on the second box. Peering inside, she had to fight the urge to jump back in horror. “Oh…wow.” Inside was the creepiest pair of dolls she’d ever seen.
“Those were at the junk store on Evergreen Street. They looked really old, so I figured you might be able to get lots of money for them.” He sounded so proud that Daisy stifled the need to reclose the flaps and send the box with Gabe to Parker. If they were in another town, they couldn’t kill her in her sleep.
The one with the wonky eye was staring at her as if it were plotting her murder. Daisy already had possible dead-body shuffling going on outside her bedroom window. She didn’t need a pair of hell dolls adding to her nightmares. Her dad looked so pleased with himself, though, that she couldn’t crush him.
“These are…great, Dad. I’ll have to do some research so I know what I’m selling. Dolls are new to me.”
“Yeah.” He laughed. “Even as a little girl, you’d pick a stuffed animal over a doll every time.”
She smiled back, quickly folding the flaps closed to break the dolls’ unwavering stares. “Thank you again, Dad. That was really thoughtful of you.”
Brushing off her thanks uncomfortably, he turned toward the garbage can. “I’d better head out. I’ll take out the trash on my way.” Pulling a handful of mail from his coat pocket, he laid it on the counter. “I stopped by the post office, too.”
“Thanks.” Her stomach twisted a little. “Want me to make you a sandwich for the road?”