A few nights later, I pulled into my garage and smelled Pedro’s Tacos before I even opened the door into the house. It was the perfect food greeting.
Daddy wouldn’t have left the house to pick up tacos, so I guessed Parker had. I followed the smell of carnitas to the kitchen to find my guess was spot-on. Parker stood at the kitchen counter, unloading food from a plastic bag.
“Are you eating Pedro’s, Daddy?” I asked before kissing the top of his head.
“Goodness no,” he scoffed. “My stomach couldn’t handle it even if I felt well enough for it. Parker brought me a chicken soup from Gelson’s.”
“I brought you carnitas.” Parker handed me a Styrofoam container. “Pinto beans, right? And I told them extra limes.”
“I can’t believe you remember my order.”
“I figured your favorite hadn’t changed.”
“You were right. I’m impressed.”
“Don’t be. You’re fairly predictable.”
We sat down at the table, and I opened my box, letting out the smell of pork, chile spices, and lime. I breathed it in, expecting to enjoy it as much as I usually did. Instead it smelled too . . . familiar, I guess.
“I am not predictable. Daddy, tell him I’m not predictable.” I scooped the meat into a tortilla and went to make a second taco then stopped. I would eat the first taco and then make a second one. I didn’t have to eat them the same way I always did.
“There’s nothing wrong with knowing what you want and sticking to that thing.” Daddy blew on his soup, completely oblivious to the I-told-you-so Parker shot me.
“Is there anything else you’d like to tell me about myself?” I skipped squeezing lime onto my taco before each bite. That would have been predictable, even if my food would have tasted better.
“Your plan to hook up Roshan and Hailey isn’t going to work.” He took a bite of his own taco and seemed to enjoy it a lot more than I enjoyed mine.
“What are you talking about?” I squirmed in my seat.
“Who or what is Roshan?” Daddy asked, looking between Parker and me.
“He’s an old friend of Preston’s,” Parker answered. “Elton Thomas. He goes by Roshan now so he can change the world one yoga pose at a time.”
“I don’t see the connection,” Daddy said. “Why does he have to change his name to teach yoga?”
“He doesn’t.” Parker took another bite of taco and then licked the grease off his fingers. “He was pretentious then, and he’s even more pretentious now. Too pretentious to look at someone like Hailey as anything more than a potential customer.”
“What’s he trying to sell her?” Daddy looked to me for an answer, but Parker gave it.
“Oils and empty promises.”
“He’s a con man?” Daddy asked in alarm.
“No!” I yelped at the same time Parker calmly said, “Yes.”
“He’s a life coach, Daddy,” I said before sending Parker a withering look. “He’s developed a program to help people reach their goals through yoga and meditation.”
“People need a coach for life?” Daddy asked Parker. He would always take Parker’s side against me. “I don’t understand. I’ve never meditated a day in my life or done yoga, and somehow I’ve survived. Life isn’t baseball. You don’t need a coach to learn how to live.”
“Exactly,” Parker said.
“She doesn’t need Elton,” I protested. “What she does need is more direction in her life. You never did, Daddy, because you had parents and a support system. Hailey has never had that.”
I picked up a fork and stabbed at my food before pushing it away. What was so wrong with helping Hailey? Maybe not everyone needed someone like Elton, but he’d done a lot of good for the people who did. Who cared if he made money off it?
Daddy patted my hand. “You’re a good friend to her. If you think this is what she needs, I trust your judgement.” His brown baggy eyes filled with a mix of love and pride as he defended me to Parker. “She’s always wanted to rescue everyone and everything she could.”
Parker nodded. “I know. It’s her greatest strength.”
I sat up straighter. “That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said about me.”
Parker pointed to my container. “Are you done?”
I nodded. “I’ll save the rest for later.”
He closed the lid and carried it to the fridge. “Just remember,” he said as he closed his own half-full container. “Sometimes what we want to do for people isn’t actually what they need.”
I didn’t know what that meant. All I wanted to do was help Hailey, which is exactly what she needed. She was a single mother with a messed-up family, who’d never had the chance to go to college. I could fix all those things—I’d already fixed the college part.
“Wanna take a walk?” Parker asked me after he’d shut the fridge.
“Sure,” I answered, surprised by his sudden invitation. “Will you be okay, Daddy?” I asked as I went to the closet for a sweatshirt.
“You two go have fun,” Daddy answered and settled into his favorite chair. “I’ve got a book to read.”
Parker and I walked the short distance from my house to the beach in comfortable silence. When we reached the sand, we both slipped off our shoes and strolled along the water. I stopped under the full moon and let the ocean bury my feet with wet sand as its watery fingers grasped the shore.
Parker kept walking but turned around when he realized I wasn’t behind him. “What are you doing?” he asked when he came back.
“Embracing a moment before it’s gone,” I answered and pointed to our feet. “Watch your footprint. The ocean may change it a little or completely wash it away.”
“Yeah?” He stared at his feet, uninterested in what had me spellbound.
“It reminds me of how quickly moments pass in our lives,” I explained. Because, obviously, he wasn’t going to get it if I didn’t. “Some go little by little—like a baby growing up. Others come and go almost before we notice them. Sometimes you have to stop and look around so you can enjoy all those little moments before they slip away.” I wiggled my toes then stepped aside to watch the prints I’d left behind disappear.
“Wow. That’s kind of profound.” He watched his own set of prints wash away and then walked on.
Of course, I followed, but I walked backward until the sea claimed the steps I left behind for it.
“I wanted to talk to you about something without your dad around,” Parker said abruptly when I had caught up to him.
“What about?” A thousand thoughts about what he was going to say flitted through my head, all of them more romantic than what actually came out of his mouth.
“Your books,” he said and slowed his pace.
“What books?” I wasn’t a big reader.
He stopped and looked over his glasses at me like a stern librarian, reminding me why I didn’t like books. “Your financial records.”
“Oh,” I stammered. He was going for stern accountant, not librarian. Even worse.
“You’re not making money, Liza.” He took his glasses off and cleaned off the condensation with the bottom of his shirt. “In fact, you’re losing money, but I can’t figure out some of your expenses.”
I shrugged. “I know what they are, so don’t worry about it.”
He replaced his glasses and rubbed the back of his neck. “Your dad’s worried about it.”
“I’m not running that shop to make money.” I started walking again. “I like what I’m doing, so who cares if I don’t get rich doing it?”
“The IRS will care if you get audited.”
“Fine, I’ll keep better records.”
“Do you have any idea where the money is going?”
“Of course I know where the money is going. I’m the one who’s writing the checks.” I stepped on a rock and yelped.
“Are you okay?” Parker grabbed my arm to help me regain my footing.
“I’m fine!” I shook his arm off and rubbed my foot on top of my other one. It helped relieve the pain in my sole, but it didn’t take away the sting of his words. “I’m not dumb, Parker.”
“I didn’t say you were dumb.” Parker stepped back and then followed me as I turned to go back the way we’d come. “I’m concerned. Businesses have to make money to stay open.”
“Do you know how much money is in my trust fund?” I wanted to be home and done with this conversation, but my foot hurt, and I could only hobble so fast. “I can put money into that flower shop for the rest of my life if I want to and never turn a profit.”
“But you won’t be able to live like you do now. Not after your dad is gone.” He breathed out the words, like he knew they would take my breath away too.
“I don’t care.” I stopped and glared at him. “It doesn’t matter where the money is going; it’s not any of your business. I didn’t ask to be born rich, and the millions of people born poor didn’t ask for that either. All you need to know about any profits I make is that I’m going to use them the way I want to use them, and it’s not going to be to add to my bank account.”
He stared at me, and I knew he was poring over every word, searching for his rebuttal. “Okay. Got it,” he answered slowly. “Your dad asked me to take a look. I’m only telling you what I found.”
We started walking again, but there was nothing comfortable about the silence between us. By the time we got to the stairs leading to the path home, Parker had found the chink in my defense.
“Are you supporting Hailey?” he asked. “I mean, beyond paying her salary?”
I didn’t answer. I could have said no and it wouldn’t have been a complete lie. Paying her college tuition wasn’t necessarily supporting her, in the strictest sense of the word. But I did sometimes buy her groceries and other stuff she needed. She could get the basics with the welfare money she got, but she couldn’t buy stuff like apples, which she loved. And she deserved to have some apples in her life.
“I admire your instinct to help . . .” he went on. “But I think it will do more harm than good.” His jaw moved back and forth as he worked out what to say next. “She’s got to be able to take care of herself and Xander, and she won’t learn how to do that if you’re giving her everything she needs. Trust me. Helping people become more self-sufficient is what I do.”
“I’m not ‘giving her everything she needs.’” It wasn’t a lie. I was helping her go to school—and yoga, I guess. But I wasn’t supporting her like Parker thought I was.
I turned to walk away from him, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me back.
“What about when the next Hailey comes along? Your trust fund won’t last forever if you keep giving money away like you are.” He held both my hands and looked me in the eye. “I know you don’t like to hear this, but your dad isn’t going to be around forever. He wants to make sure you’ll be okay after he’s gone.”
“I understand that.” I stepped back, and he let go. “I’m not a kid anymore, and you need to quit treating me like one. I know you’re trying to help, but don’t talk to me like I’m dumb—”
“Then quit doing dumb things,” he snapped then took a deep breath. “It’s all well and good to enjoy the moment, but you have to plan ahead,” he said with a forced calm. “Quit playing with people’s lives like you’re putting on a puppet show, and figure out your own future . . .” He trailed off.
I forced my mouth to ignore my quivering chin and move. “I can walk the rest of the way myself.”
“Liza Belle, come on. I live at the same place,” he pled. “Am I supposed to stand here until you get home so we’re not walking together?”
“I don’t know. Maybe you should have planned that out before you called me dumb,” I said over my shoulder then crossed the street in front of a car.
“And don’t call me Liza Belle anymore!” I yelled over the car’s horn.