yell, my voice shrill. “I know he’s stupid hot. But we’re still thirty minutes out and you’re not going to make it if you keep wasting your breath on Dr. Prince. Please, please. Just be quiet…”
I don’t realize I’m crying until I fail to finish that sentence and the road blurs.
I blink the tears away as best I can since it’s not a good idea at all to touch my face.
It works to a point. And by the time my vision clears, Rhys is on the phone with the hospital, letting them know we’re on the way with a possible COVID patient and that they should have the necessary equipment ready to go.
I know it’s unsafe, but I press my foot into the gas pedal, pushing it even faster.
We’ve got to get there on time. We have to. I can’t lose Mavis like I lost my father.
Chapter Eleven
Three Years Ago
“I want to come home with you. I want to meet your father and be made to feel massively uncomfortable because of our opposite skin color by your townspeople. I want to be with you in Guadalajara this weekend. That’s what I should have told you yesterday morning.”
I read and re-read the message at least ten times to see if I was missing something. But no, Rhys seemed dead serious about wanting to come home with me to Guadalajara even after all my warnings.
“But why tho?” I started to type back.
Another text came through before I could hit send. “I miss you.”
He missed me. My heart squeezed. And my thumbs hovered above the keyboard as I tried to decide…
Send the irreverent “But why though” text anyway?
Or erase that text and replace it with the truth? I miss you too.
“Haven’t seen you smile like that since you got to town, pumpkin.”
I didn’t realize I was smiling until my father said that.
I looked up from the little church alcove where I’d hidden away with my phone to find Dad standing above me. Tall and still super handsome despite his paunch and grey beard. He had kind brown eyes that I wish I’d inherited—kind eyes help in the medical professions. But I’d been a composite of my mother’s side of the family. I’d gotten my grandma’s beauty, my mother’s winning smile, and my post office worker grandfather’s shrewd gaze.
No kind eyes for me.
But I frowned upon further observation of my father that night. He was sweating profusely and seemed a little out of breath.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes, yes,” Dad answered, waving me off. “Just danced too much with my bride. It was smart of you to find somewhere dark and cool to take a break. You must be my daughter. I was thinking the same thing.”
I laughed and scooted over.
Dad had a way of making a request and a compliment at the same time. It always made people, including me happy, verging on eager to do anything he asked.
Rachel doesn’t deserve him. I thought that to myself as he sat down beside me and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe the sheen of sweat from his forehead.
Dad had seemed jovial and happy to be getting remarried again for a second time. And I was trying to be happy for him. I know he was from a different generation, and he was probably lonely without my mom for those months before he met Rachel. But I didn’t love his wife.
Not because she was Thai. Who cared about that when I’m dating a White guy? And it wasn’t because she was almost twenty years younger than him with two kids either. In fact, I liked my stepsiblings. They were funny and a little bit weird. Their opposite dynamic reminded me of my two best friends, Billie the nerd, and Gina the knockout.
What I didn’t like was how Rachel was constantly snapping at them. Like her kids just walking around and breathing was some kind of burden. I also didn’t like how she ignored them while clinging to my dad like a second skin. Or how she acted resentful when he gave the twins any kind of attention.
Yes, it was their completely unnecessary second wedding. And maybe this was her way of displaying love. But she almost seemed like a jealous older sibling whenever dad tried to engage A and E in conversation. As if being interested in them was an insult to her.
I mean, I kind of got it. My dad was one of those doctors who made you feel like you were the only