if I’ve eaten the contents of an ashtray.
He looks up at me, and his face is a mix of deep grief and joy. He reaches for my hand and clutches it in his own. I don’t remember my dad ever holding my hand, not even when I was little. His skin is calloused and rough.
“Hank, you’re okay. You’re going to be okay,” he assures me, then calls to the nurse, letting her know I’m awake. This must be a big deal because she’s in there like a shot, taking my vitals, letting me know I’ve given them all a scare. Apparently I inhaled quite a bit of smoke, and by the time the fireman got to me, I was about to lose consciousness. I’ll be fine, but my lungs will need time to recover.
Just hearing the story again sets off my dad, and when the nurse leaves, he squeezes my hand again and says to me, “I was so scared. First your mom and Mickey, and when this happened… You’re all I’ve got left in this world, Hank. You and me. You’re my flesh and blood. I swear to God, I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost you too.”
“Mickey was there, Dad,” I say. “I heard him.”
Dad smiles and wipes at his eyes. “I believe he was, Hank. I believe he was.”
Slowly the night starts to come back to me. “Is Peyton okay? Is she here?” I try to sit up, but it’s uncomfortable.
“She’s fine. Don’t worry. She’ll be back in a few hours. I sent her back to our house to get some rest. She’s been here all night with you, and she refused to leave until the doctors assured her you would be all right.”
“Her mother will think she started the fire. She’ll send her away,” I say, panic rising in my chest.
“No one is sending her away.”
“No, Dad, you don’t understand—”
“Actually, I do. Peyton told us everything, and Monica and I spoke to her mother. Because of the fire and Peyton’s allegations about her mother’s neglect and abuse, we convinced her mother it was best for everyone if Peyton stayed with us right now. It was that or call Child Protective Services, and I think her mother liked that idea even less. With a short list of options, she relented pretty quick.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
“It’s the right thing to do.” He pats my arm, and his face brightens. “Peyton told me you have an interview at a fancy art school in Boston. I’m real proud of you.”
I let those words sink in. He’s never said he’s proud of me before. But then I get paranoid that he’s baiting me to tell me all the reasons I can’t go.
“I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to tell you, Dad. But don’t worry, I don’t need to go to art school. I mean, I know you need me here too.”
He shakes his head. “You’re going. You have to take opportunities like that when they come your way. If you never take a single chance in life, you know what you’ll get? Nothing. You’ve got talent, Hank. Somebody is going to notice that. Clearly they already have. Hell, I’ve seen your stuff. It’s great.”
“How have you seen my drawings?”
“You leave it lying around that room of yours all the time. You think I haven’t noticed? I may have been out of it after your mother died, but I’m not blind. I especially liked that one you made where your superhero guy—”
“Freeze Frame. His name is Freeze Frame,” I say, not even caring that my dad has probably riffled through stuff in my room if he’s seen my comics. He’s seen my drawings. He likes them. That means more than I could ever explain to him.
“Yeah, Freeze Frame. I liked that one where he tries to stop that mad scientist from turning people into life-size ants because the scientist was plotting to make Earth into a giant colony and enslave everyone as workers. Except, of course, him and that other scientist guy.”
“Dr. Kingsley,” I tell him.
“He was pure evil. But it was great how Freeze Frame defeats them by stopping time and putting the ant formula into their coffee so the scientists drink their own poison and turn into giant ants that then get squished.” Dad chuckles and he gets all these lines at the corners of his eyes.
“Yeah, that was a fun one,” I say. “So you really liked it?”
“I loved it,” he says, and he seems