“Haha, very funny,” Dad says. “I happen to be very good at cards, thank you very much.”
“I remember,” Kelly says with a smile, and maybe a hint of something like regret in her voice. “Y’all have fun. I’ll be back to check on you in about an hour. Just call if you need anything.”
Dad watches her leave, and I can’t help but wonder again what happened between the two of them. I don’t understand how sometimes perfectly good relationships fall apart when you least expect it.
“Colton, I’m sorry you have to see me like this, but I guess this officially makes you a part of our family at the bar,” Dad says.
“I always used to say it isn’t a real party until someone ends up in the emergency room.”
Dad laughs and Colton pulls a chair closer to the bed. He takes the deck of cards from the table and shuffles.
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that saying,” I tell him as I sit down on the end of the bed. “What kind of parties have you been having, anyway?”
“The kind you’ve been missing out on your whole life, apparently,” he says.
I know he’s just joking, and to hear the sound of my father’s laughter is all I need to hear to be grateful for Colton’s light-hearted humor. How does he always seem to know just what to say?
“Well, let’s keep this party going, then,” I say. “What should we play?”
Dad touches my arm and winks. “I’m thinking hearts.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Thank God for comfy beds and blackout curtains.
Exhausted from spending most of the morning in the ER, I fall into bed, looking forward to at least four hours of uninterrupted bliss before I have to show up at work. I told Jo I’d take her shift tonight so that she could look out for her dad. About fifteen minutes later, though, someone is banging on my door. I grumble and roll over, tempted to just pull my pillow over my head and wait for them to go away.
But what if something else has happened to Rob? He was in good spirits after they moved him to his hospital room this afternoon, but I’m still worried there might be something more serious going on with him.
I get up, pull on my jeans, and rush to the door.
Only, it isn’t Jo. It’s my dad.
I run a hand over my face, my stomach in knots. What have I done now?
Reluctantly, I open the door. “Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
I assume my most casual stance. It’s a good defense against my father, who always seems to be wound up tighter than a jack in the box. I’m nowhere near calm on the inside, but I don’t want him to know that.
He pushes the door open and blows past me. “Colton, what the hell is wrong with you, son?”
I swallow back the words that come into my brain. I don’t even dare open my mouth for fear that I’ll say something that will only make this worse.
“Imagine my surprise when I get a call from Neal this afternoon saying that you didn’t show up for the very important interview this morning?” Dad says.
I close my eyes and breathe in, exhaustion weighing me down.
“I’m sorry, Dad, I completely forgot.”
Which is just about the worst thing I can say. I realize it after the words have passed my lips. Dad’s entire face tenses, and if he was the hitting type, this would have been the moment he balled his hands into fists and let it rip.
“You forgot?” He adjusts his jeans on his hips and points a finger at me. “Do you have any idea just what I had to do to get you this interview? I went out of my way to get you in when they were already full up, Colton. They had to pass on some other guy who actually cares about this job, and you forgot?”
He shakes his head, disgust written so clearly on his face, it brings a bad taste to my mouth.
“Well, now I never asked you to do that, did I?” I say. Not that my father really cares what I want. He never has. All he thinks about is what he wants for me. What he thinks is best for me.
And in his eyes, I’m already the type of loser who misses interviews and takes everything for granted. So why even bother telling him about Jo’s dad? To him it would just be another excuse, and I’m too