The Light in my Darkness

Chapter 24

Clint worked late Friday which was, in itself, unlike him. He usually left the office as early as possible to get a jump on the weekend. But as he had absolutely no plans save wallowing in self-pity, he didn't see the need to hurry home. He entered through the kitchen and tossed his jacket over the back of a chair. He rolled his sleeves up as he inventoried the contents of his fridge trying to decide what to eat. Nothing appealed to him so he grabbed a beer before shutting the door.

As he twisted the cap off and threw it in the trash, a piece of paper on the bar caught his attention. It was an invitation to your show. Where the hell had that come from? Lord knows he'd seen enough of them lately, but he was certain he hadn't brought any of them home. It seemed as though everyone that knew the two of you was making it their business to get him to the show. That wasn't a good idea. He knew that much at least.

He traced his fingers over the name of your show written in brilliant blue painter's strokes. Him. Yeah, going to your show wouldn't be a good idea at all. It would only cause unnecessary pain for both of you.

"You should go."

Clint swallowed his mouthful of beer and turned to find Wanda standing in the doorway behind him. He frowned in question, not that he minded her being there, he just hadn't been expecting her.

"The shoes I wanted to wear were here." She closed the distance between them and picked up the postcard to look it over. "And quit trying to ignore me. You should go to the show."

He shook his head as he turned away from her. "That's not a good idea."

"Why not?"

"You know why not." He slammed the bottle on the counter. He didn't want to have this conversation. Didn't want her pushing him. Prodding him.

Wanda hummed in thought. "Because you love her, you mean?"

"Don't be ridiculous."

"She loves you, too, you know."

His shoulders slumped and he raked a hand through his hair. "Yeah. I know."

"Then what is the problem? You are so frustrating. Just forget whatever shit you've convinced yourself of and go get the girl." He glanced over to find Wanda scowling with her arms crossed over her chest.

"It's not that simple, sweetheart. Feelings change. Someday she'll realize I'm not what she wants and she'll find someone else. I don't think I could survive that. Not with her." It was more honesty than he'd been prepared to face that day, but he hoped it would get his daughter to back off. To give him a break and let him grieve. He should have known better.

"So, you'll be fine when she finds someone else and starts dating? Because that's what will happen. You know that, right?" Her tone was so matter-of-fact, so serious, that Clint wondered briefly if there was already someone on the horizon.

And God did that hurt. The thought that you'd soon be smiling for someone else. Laying in someone else's arms. "You're just not going to cut your old man any slack, are you?"

"I never do when you're being stupid," was the immediate response.

He shook his head and huffed a laugh. "God, kid."

She placed the postcard on the counter and pushed it in front of him. "Go. Tell her you love her. Don't think about it, just do it. If losing Peter taught us anything, it's to not waste the time we have."

Clint closed his eyes and swallowed past the lump in his throat. Tears burned behind his lids.

Wanda placed a hand on his back. "He would want you to be happy. I want you to be happy. So if you won't do it for yourself, do it for me. Or do it for her. For some stupid reason, she loves you."