“All of them?” Andrew wanted so badly to help her. “Or was it just your father?”
She paused and stared out the window. “He might have said the words but none of my family disagreed with him.”
“It doesn’t mean they didn’t want to. Maybe they were worried about making a bad situation worse.”
Clara shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. But it’s all said and done now.”
“And you have no intention of calling them?”
Her narrowed gaze landed on him. “They could call me, you know.” Her voice rose. “The phone works in both directions.”
Maybe getting into all of this wasn’t such a good idea. “Understood.”
“The frown on your face says otherwise. Wait… Is it your leg? Did we overdo it today?”
“My leg is fine.” He gazed into her eyes. What he found reflected in her eyes surprised him. It wasn’t sympathy or pity, but rather, there was warmth and tenderness. “Thanks for caring.”
She reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’ll always care.”
His heart thumped in his chest. When she went to pull away, he tightened his hold on her fingers, needing the warmth of her touch for just a moment longer.
It was only then he realized that for the first time ever, he hadn’t taken offense to an inquiry about his leg. Ever since his accident, he’d been defensive whenever anyone mentioned his injury or how he couldn’t keep up with others.
But right now, the caring in Clara’s eyes and the gentleness of her touch were like a balm on his injured pride. Until that point, he’d never noticed how his injuries extended beyond the physical. Who’d have thought the injury to his ego would be just as difficult to heal?
But they weren’t there because of him. They were there for Clara. She just didn’t know that yet. In a comfortable silence, they enjoyed their ice cream cones. Clara made quick work of hers. He still had half of his cone to eat, and it was starting to melt, so he gobbled it down. If he wanted to help Clara, he was going to have to tell her the truth—the whole truth. His truth.
And somehow he had to get the words out before they got tangled in his mind. He just couldn’t screw this up. While he’d been laid up in the hospital, he’d gone over and over the words in his head. However, now that he was sitting there with Clara and staring into her eyes, his mouth grew dry and his pulse raced. Maybe he was making a big mistake. Why should he ruin a good thing?
The push and pull of his thoughts raged within him. His body tensed, including his hand—the one that was holding Clara’s hand.
Her face pinched just before she pulled her hand free. “Okay, now I know something is wrong. Talk to me.”
He sighed. “Where do I even begin?”
“That’s easy. At the beginning.”
Sure. Why not? “Some of this you already know, but here goes. You know my father raised me after my mother ran off. At the same time, he managed the convenience store in our small town.”
Clara nodded, but then got a puzzled look on her face. “You said he managed, as in past tense. Did something happen? Did he retire?”
Andrew frowned at her. “Whose story is this?”
“Okay. Okay. Continue.”
“No matter how hard my father worked, the money never went far enough. But each day he bought one lottery ticket. He always picked the same numbers, over and over again. When I got older, I asked him why he did it. I just couldn’t understand why he kept wasting his hard-earned money on something that never paid off. And do you know what he said?” When Clara shook her head, Andrew said, “Because you never know when luck will strike.”
“Your father always was an optimistic man.”
“He was. I guess I was more like my mother, because I never believed in luck. I always subscribed to the fact that hard work paid off, and a person could make their own luck. That’s why I studied hard and played harder, earning a full-ride scholarship by playing football in college.”
“Maybe life is a little of both. But I do know that you made your father very proud of you.”
He swallowed down the lump forming in the back of his throat, knowing what he must say next. “Just before my accident, my father… He died.”
“Oh, Andrew. I’m so sorry.” Clara jumped to her feet, rushed over and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a firm hug. Her voice was soft and full of emotion when she said, “I always liked him.”
“He liked you, too.” Andrew blinked repeatedly as his eyes misted over. “He made sure to let me know when we broke up that I’d let the best thing in my life slip through my fingers.”