I nod, elated that we share the same favorite part. “Me too,” I say. “What do you like about it? Do you like running up the ramps, or sliding down them?”
He takes a long sip of soda and then shrugs nonchalantly. “Neither. I like it ‘cause Mom told me my dad use to skate.” My hand stills on its way to my mouth. His words are completely unexpected and I’m not really sure how to respond. Maybe Harley told him a little white lie about the piece-of-shit dad he will never know. I wouldn’t blame her…of course she would want her son to have some good memories of his father.
“Did he rollerblade?” I ask hesitantly, unsure how far I should push this.
He pops a piece of pepperoni into his mouth. “Nope. Skateboard.” I smile softly at him, thankful that he doesn’t seem upset about the shift in our conversation.
“My brother and I use to skateboard. That’s why I love the skate park here. It reminds me of him.”
“Were you any good?”
“No,” I snicker, remembering how many times I fell before I could even stand up on one. “But my brother was. Dallas could do all sorts of cool stuff on his skateboard.”
Max’s jaw drops and he lets his slice of pizza fall to the table. “That’s my dad’s name!” He eagerly scoots forward in his seat. “How cool is that?”
I stare at him in shock for a few seconds, his words repeating in my head. That’s my dad’s name. What does he mean, that’s his dad’s name? My skin heats with frustration, blood rushing through my ears, and suddenly I’m finding it hard to breathe. Harley assured me that she didn’t know who Max’s father was…was she lying to me? Was she really attacked? Did her and Dallas have an affair, or is she just using Dallas—since he’s deceased—to give Max a father? A growl threatens to rip up my throat, but I fight it back, desperate to keep Max from seeing my reaction. I rub a hand roughly over my face, digging my thumb into my eyes. Pushing back from the table, I stand abruptly and snake my hand out to stop our sodas from tipping over when the table shakes.
“Are you okay, Ty?” Max asks, his head cocked to the side.
“Yeah,” I wave him off, my mouth going dry. My arms feel heavy when I pick up our plates and toss them in the trash. “Let’s go play some more.” He smiles at me and starts skipping off toward the skateless park without a clue that he just set off a spark that will more than likely explode into a full-on firestorm.
“SO HOW DO YOU think Tyson did with Max today?” Avery asks, shrugging out of her lab coat. “Do you think he survived?” We both laugh and I pull my phone out of my pocket, surprised that there isn’t a missed call or text from Ty. I was certain he would let me know how his day went, or at least give me a call when they were on their way home. I smile to myself at the thought that maybe they’re having so much fun that they lost track of time.
“I’m fairly certain that Ty will pass out as soon as he hits a bed tonight,” I say, tossing my stethoscope into my satchel. I heave the strap over my shoulder and then Avery and I make our way out of the hospital. “He had absolutely no idea what he got himself into.”
She snorts with laughter and we talk idly until we reach the parking lot, where she gives me a quick hug before we go our separate ways, promising to catch up for dinner some time soon.
The drive home drags by. I’ve tried calling Ty several times, but his phone keeps going to voicemail. I decide to call my mom and she answers on the first ring.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she croons. “How was your day at work?”
It’s so nice to hear her voice. Sometimes you just need your mom, and I feel like lately I haven’t needed her as much as I did before. “Hi, Ma! Work was good…busy, but good. Have you heard from Ty? I was curious how his day went, but I haven’t been able to get ahold of him.”
“Yes, in fact he dropped Max off here a couple of minutes ago.” Her words startle me and I find myself sitting up straighter in my seat, my grip tightening on the steering wheel.
“Is everything okay?” I ask hurriedly, needing confirmation that nothing bad has happened.
“Oh yes, dear. Everything is fine.
I think that Max wore Tyson out.” My shoulders relax as relief washes through me. Deep down, I knew that Tyson could handle it.
“So, why do you have Max?”
She rustles around and a loud clang indicates that she’s getting ready to cook dinner. “Uh…I’m not really sure. He called me and asked if he could drop Max off, said he needed to talk to you about something right when you get home. I’m going to bring Max home shortly, so if you two are planning on…you know—”
“Mom,” I scoff, rolling my eyes.
Her boisterous laugh rings through the phone. “Well, honey, I’m just—”
“Okay,” I interrupt. “Let’s talk about something else, other than what I may or may not do with Ty when I get home.”
“What are you and Tyson doing?” my dad asks, causing me to choke on the tea I just took a drink of.
“Uh, nothing dad. Where’s mom?” I hate it when they do this. She’ll just pass the phone off and next thing I know I’m talking to my dad about…nope, not going there.
“She’s making dinner. Do you and Tyson want to come over and eat?”
“No, but thanks. I’m exhausted. Just tell mom to bring Max home after he eats, or I can come get him…whatever works for you guys.”