me or set me on fire.”
“Don’t tempt me,” I said gravely. “And I wouldn’t set you on fire. I’d torch your bed and let nature take care of the rest.” The doctor looked up from his chart with a disapproving glance. “What? It’s not like I asked you for a match,” I said defensively.
He huffed and turned his back as well as he could, which was quite a feat since we were standing right next to each other. I sighed. Jesus. I thought I’d make it more than five minutes before being reported to adult protective services.
*
My father complained the whole way home.
I wasn’t even surprised. He complained about the way I helped him into the car. Apparently, the time it took me to get out of the parking garage was ridiculous. My driving speed was too inconsistent. Even the comfort level of his own fucking seat was unacceptable, as if I was responsible for every bump and pucker in the restored vintage Mustang.
“It’s your bloody car,” I informed him at some point, which took the wind out of his sails. He was silent for about two-point-five seconds before he declared that he was hungry and reminded me he needed to go to the drugstore for supplies.
“What kind of supplies?” I asked suspiciously. The drugstore was his place of choice to buy chewing tobacco, which was an all-star on the doctor’s no-no list.
“A stick of deodorant and a new toothbrush,” he snapped. “And I’m the parent, here.”
That was entirely debatable.
“Well?” he prodded. “What about some lunch? Am I allowed to eat, warden?”
“You’re allowed to eat, Prisoner 666. I’m just going over your list of approved foods in my mind. If I remember correctly, you need something low-fat, low-sodium, and low-sugar. Nothing spicy, either. And no citrus because of one of one of your new meds.” I blew out a breath. “So…air. You like air?”
He snorted. “I put a steak in the fridge to defrost before I went in.”
“Yeah, that goes on the no-fly list for now,” I said, shooting him a sidelong look. “And please stop making it sound like you just checked yourself into the hospital for a quick tune-up.”
“Might as well have.”
“Really?” It was my turn to snort. “Because the way Cam tells it, you fell in the grocery store, right down the deodorant aisle.”
“Which is why I still need sundries,” he bellowed, “like I told you.”
“Calm down, calm down,” I huffed. “Jesus, you’ll get your pressure up.”
Whose bright idea was this anyway? I was many things, but patient and nurturing didn’t even crack the top hundred list of my best traits.
“Do you think you could drive a little faster?” He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. “You’d think you were driving Miss Daisy.”
Refresh my drink, in the movie, did they drive Miss Daisy off a cliff or no?
“I’m trying to keep the ride smooth for your sake,” I said. And because irony was a thing, I hit a pothole that sent us both jumping in our seats.
“Great job,” he managed to bark, even though clearly in pain as he clutched his side. He had a bruise there from when he’d fallen in the grocery store, and he was healing slowly.
“I didn’t pave the freaking road,” I snapped, before biting down on my tongue to keep from saying more.
Knockout drops. I added those to my mental list of essentials for when he got on my last fucking nerve, which was probably going to be often. Melatonin would work. In a gallon jug.
He made a sound of derision. “Good God, boy, are you seriously going to stop at a yellow?”
At his incredulous mutter, I pressed harder on the accelerator and the vintage Mustang roared like I was an extra in one of the Fast & Furious movies. I was hard-pressed not to smile. “You souped this up, didn’t you?” I accused.
His lips twitched. “No other way to drive American muscle. Now hit it.”
I did as I was told and lookee there, I felt a little better. “Are you that eager to get home?” I asked, navigating around a couple of slow cars that didn’t get the memo that arriving safely was passé.
“I’m that eager to get a real damn bath. Sponge baths just don’t cut it.”
I grimaced. “Christ, I was hoping we could work up to me seeing you completely naked.” I shook my head. “Not just, hi son, welcome home, check out my balls.”
He looked as horrified as I felt. “What the hell are you talking