Face to face with him, Luci couldn’t think of a single thing to say. It was, if not a first, a rare experience in her life. A Seymour might not have a gift for saying the right thing, but they were rarely at a loss for words. The storm of feeling that had robbed her of speech was unfamiliar territory for her.
Her father. The word felt strange in her thoughts as she tried it out. Only now, when he was here to fill it, did she notice the void in her life his absence had left. Or maybe she’d been afraid to notice? With hungry eyes she noted the broad shoulders she’d never been able to rest her head on while she confided her joys or sobbed out her sorrows. The man who hadn’t been there to run by her bicycle until she got her balance or to glare at her first date or to tell her what a thingama
