Striker silently agreed.
The doctor said, “Let me go check on him and I’ll have a nurse come get you.”
Whatever had happened in the past between father and son, Striker loved his dad. It made me think of my brother and father and whatever fight had happened between them.
“It’s going to be fine,” I said.
He squeezed my hand. “No matter what he did in the past, I can’t fail him now.”
I wasn’t sure what that meant.
A nurse came in. “I’m here to take you to see the patient in room 2B.” The poor girl looked starstruck as she gazed longingly at Striker. “He’s only allowed one visitor at a time.”
“It’s fine,” I said and gave her my Barbie smile, all plastic and fake.
Striker gave me a kiss before saying, “I’ll be back and then we can go home.”
I didn’t know if he’d said home to take the puppy love look out of the poor girl’s eyes, but I ate it up anyway. Home.
The question was if we could make a home together. The dominant and the sarcastic blonde. Oh, what a pair we made.EighteenConnorGoing to my father’s ICU room felt like walking the green mile. How many chances or opportunities would I have to forgive my father? Because in truth, I hadn’t. He’d made a mistake in sending me to that school—a big one—but we all did at some point in our lives. He’d tried his best to make it up to me.
One thing I’d heard was that forgiveness wasn’t for the guilty party, but the wronged person. Harboring all that hate and pain wasn’t good for one’s soul.
The door opened and I saw my father resting on a bed. I was grateful there weren’t many tubes going in and out of him.
“The doctor said you can have five minutes. Then I’ll be back,” the nurse said.
I saluted her and moved the solitary chair closer to his bed. An IV was in his hand. The only other tube was an oxygen canula under his nose. I didn’t think that was usual and would have to ask the doctor about it the next time we spoke.
“Dad?” I said.
His eyes opened. “Connor, my boy.”
“How are you feeling?” Though it sounded scripted—because everyone in my situation said the same thing every time—I had nothing else.
“Like I want to get out of here.”
“That’s what got you here in the first place. You need to rest. They’ve only given me five minutes with you.”
With surprising strength, he gripped my hand. “I need to talk to my lawyer right away.”
“Charles?” I asked, referring to his best friend since childhood without thinking.
“No. That fucker screwed over my business and my wife.”
Though at my request, I didn’t get daily updates about the business, I’d been told Charles had been fired. To further complicate my life, he’d been arrested for fraud surrounding the company a month or so before Kalen’s wedding. Charles and Mom had tried to reach me, but I’d ignored their calls. Whatever was going on, I wanted nothing to do with it. I’d never liked Charles, and if he could lie to my father for years, screwing the business and my mom, he couldn’t be trusted. The other reason I avoided them was I didn’t want to believe Charles was my biological father.
“Dad, you need to calm down,” I said as his face reddened.
Wires led from the bed to a machine with a screen that showed his heart activity increasing—and not in a good way, if the change of color of the readings from white to red was an indication.
“I can’t die married to that woman. She won’t get a dime from me, I swear to God.”
The machine let off a wail of alarms. I feared he would kill himself with stress.
“The only thing she did right was have you.”
I licked my lips, waiting for him to come to the obvious conclusion. Had his agitation increased because he suspected there was a chance I wasn’t his son?
A couple of nurses rushed in.
“I’m afraid you’re going to have to leave,” a stern-faced woman said to me.
The one who had walked me here talked soothingly to my dad, but he was still looking at me.
I said, “I’ll handle it. I swear. I’ll take care of everything.”
Only then did he relax, and I left. I didn’t go far. Out the door, I called my brother, but he didn’t answer. I checked my watch. He probably hadn’t landed yet. I left him a message because he would know who dad’s current lawyer was. I didn’t.
I waited in the hall until the warning bells from that machine stopped. I peeked through the slim door window and saw Dad appeared okay. When the nurse came out, I asked that question.
“He is, but I can’t let you go back in. You can come by tomorrow and talk to the doctor.”