My Best Friend Took My Wedding, So I Fed the Whole Town novel · Chapter 18 of 24

Chapter 18: Slow

I took Lasse home after the benefit, up Pine Street, to my father's house.

It was the first time he had been inside it since the funeral.

He stood in the front hall with his hat in his hands, looking at the boat plans framed on the wall.

"He drew that one when I was nineteen," he said.

"I know. He kept it over the stove."

I led him up the stairs by the hand.

My room was at the end of the hall, under the slope of the roof.

It still had the quilt I had slept under as a girl.

I stopped at the door.

"Wait," I said.

"I'm waiting."

"I need to ask you something, and I want the real answer."

He leaned against the door frame.

"Ask."

"The truck. The tables. The keys. Everything you've done for me this month." I made myself look at him.

"Is it because you feel sorry for me?"

He did not move.

"I've been the girl in town people feel sorry for since I was twenty-one," I said. "I'm tired of it."

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