How had we not had this conversation already? “Of course,” I said easily. “That’s what dads do. Grandpas too. You don’t have to prove yourself to get their love. It’s natural.”
All the tension eased out of his body, and he smiled. “I love you too, dad.”
Before I got the chance to fully process this, Dad walked back into the room, balancing three glasses of tea on a tray. He sat it down on the coffee table in front of us, taking a seat in his old chair. “Tell me about yourself, champ,” he said to Gavin.
I sat back and drank my tea as Gavin spoke, all traces of shyness gone. It seemed like the little talk we’d had helped to break him out of his shell. He filled Dad in on everything, including the things we did together: building legos, watching movies, getting ice cream. He talked about school and of course, his superheroes.
What really amazed me was the way Dad listened to every word the kid said, asking questions and responding when appropriate. It was so different from the way he used to be when I wanted attention as a kid. This wasn’t the same man I’d grown up with, but I was happy to see he had changed in that regard. Gavin deserved a caring grandpa that would give him the attention he wanted.
Later, when Gavin was in the bathroom, I had to ask about that. My curiosity was piqued. “So, what do you think? Good kid, huh?” I started.
“Great kid,” Dad said. “You’re a lucky man to have a boy like that.”
“I gotta say, Dad, I’m a little surprised at how engaged you are with him. Frankly, it’s not what I was expecting.”
He sighed, leaning forward in the chair with his fingers steepled together. “I get that. Honestly, I’ve been thinking a lot about our relationship in the last few years, and I’m not happy with it. It’s just so much harder without your mother, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “It really is.”
“She held us together. I didn’t have to be the most caring, attentive dad in the world because she made up for it, didn’t she? Right or wrong, I depended on her for that kind of thing. But now, it’s just me, and the two of us don’t even spend holidays together.”
“Honestly, I didn’t even know you wanted to do that.”
“It might be nice,” he said, “especially if you bring Gavin.”
“I’ll do that,” I said, thinking that Naomi would probably enjoy a nice, family-oriented Thanksgiving and Christmas this year.
“What I really want to know is how you are, son. I worry about you, being single and alone. I don’t know what I would have done with my life without your mom.”
“I’m not single anymore. I’m with Gavin’s mom. Naomi.”
“Really?” He grinned. “That’s great. You love her?”
The question startled me. I hadn’t really thought about that word, but of course, the answer was yes. I was head-over-heels for her. “Yeah, I really do.”
Gavin returned from the bathroom.
We dropped the topic, but for the rest of our visit, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Just like I hadn’t realized that I had yet to hug Gavin, I also didn’t even think about the fact that I hadn’t truly told Naomi the depth of my feelings for her. I’d asked her to be my Old Lady, which was a way of telling her how I felt, but I hadn’t spoken the L word. That needed to change. The next time we were alone together, I was going to let her know.
That evening, I rode through town, weaving through the traffic between my house and the hospital. I had dropped Gavin off at Naomi’s place after our visit with my father, intending to spend a little time with the club tonight at Wheelz, which had reopened two days ago. Naomi had to work, and her regular, live-in babysitter—who I hadn’t met yet—would be watching Gavin.
But my plans changed when I got a call ten minutes ago. Ink was finally awake.
It was almost midnight, but everyone was heading to the hospital, eager to see him. I felt sure only a few people would be allowed in at a time. I didn’t care. I’d wait if I had to. I just wanted to lay eyes on him and see he was all right. The last image I had of Ink was the day I found him, pale and covered in blood. If nothing else, I wanted to try to erase that from my mind, replace it with a new memory of him.
When I arrived, I saw Bones and Gunner’s motorcycles parked side-by-side. As I pulled in beside them and parked, Maverick arrived too. We didn’t say anything to each other as we walked inside, but a clear eagerness hung in the air. We already knew the room number since he’d been in the hospital for more than a week, and when we reached his floor, we found Gunner and Bones standing near the nurse’s station, waiting for us.
“How is he?” I asked immediately.
“We don’t know yet,” Bones said. “The doctor is with him now.”
“I told you, sir,” the nurse standing at the station interjected with a no-nonsense look on her face, “visiting hours have long passed. You’ll have to come back tomorrow.”
“No way,” Gunner said. He was usually the one who kept his cool in every situation, but there was a definite undertone of anger to his voice now. We were all keyed up to see Ink. “We need to know what happened to him. There could be a threat against the club, and we have no clue.”
“We want to see him. Tonight.” Bones pulled out his wallet. Everyone had a price, even nurses. This was something we’d all learned during the years when the club participated in more unsavory activities. Bones pulled out a wad of cash, counting it before holding it out to her. “Five hundred for fifteen minutes,” he said.
Her eyes popped and she blinked a couple of times before strengthening her resolve. She was a tough cookie. “Sir, I can’t—”