“I’m fine,” Jensen huffs with a sharp tone.
I hold out my pinky with a smile to really piss her off. “Pinky promise?”
Jensen’s eye twitches. “You’re pushing it. I appreciate the check in, but I don’t have to pinky promise you anything. I said I’m good, so take my word.”
“Fair.” I retract my hand, and honestly I’m happy with her answer. Whatever chemistry we have aside, there’s a level of friendship at its core—I needed to see her bad attitude and go-to-hell look. The softness and laugh she gave me will probablyhaunt my dreams in the best way possible, but leaving tonight without seeing this bite from her felt wrong.
I take a step back. “See you in two weeks, Jenni-cakes?”
“Something tells me that won’t be too long of a separation, Stalker.”
I pause at the top of the stairs going down, she’s yet to move, and I swear she’s biting her cheek. “Just call me if you’re having a lazy day and find the energy to be around me.”
“Bye, Beck.” Sarcasm laces her tone, but there’s the slightest hint of a smile on her face.
Despite telling my dad that getting a rental car was not a hassle for me, he insisted on picking me up from the airport. My argument for him staying with Mom was only met with the fact that I already pay for around-the-clock nurses, therefore it’s his “fatherly duty” to pick me up.
I, however, think that term is bullshit and he wants to spend the maximum amount of time together in order to prove his point that I’m not “happy.”
Which I am, it just looks different now.
Before I even reach baggage claim I spot him with a huge ass sign that reads:my son just won the world series.
I can’t help the laugh. “Subtle, old man, I think the size of this poster is a little too braggy.”
“Good, you got my point.” Dad drops the sign and meets me with an equally big hug. “Happy you’re home.”
The guilt of it being so long between visits takes over and practically knocks the breath out of me, but just as quickly relief washes over me because I’m also so happy to be home.
I clap his back as I return his bear hug. “Me too, thanks for picking me up.”
“Of course, that’s the response I was looking for when I brought it up. Not that bullshit about getting a rental.” Dad shakes my shoulder before releasing his hold. “Come on, let’s get this show on the road.”
With a nod, we head over to baggage claim where I stand tight-lipped to keep the five million questions I have about how Mom’s actually doing to myself. All those questions can come out on the drive home. Or better yet, to the nurse who won’t sugarcoat anything for me.
“So, you remember our deal? I need to see you happy, and you’re not off to a good start,” my dad says with zero regard to discretion.
“Christ’s sake, we haven’t even made it to the parking lot. I just got off a plane, most people aren’t exactly rays of sunshine immediately after traveling.”
“They are when they fly first class.”
The twitch of an eye roll starts, but I stop it. I can’t and won’t give him any sort of ammunition. No negativity. Nothing.
I roll my tense shoulders back and relax. “I would love for it to not include you psychoanalyzing every tiny move I make. We’re standing around waiting for bags to start rolling out and praying that it didn’t somehow get lost, so maybe we can hold off on the accusations for a bit.”
Dad waves a hand. “Alright, fine. I’ll wait…but everything about you feels melancholy, and I don’t like it.”
“Maybe it’s the fluorescent lights?”
He snorts. “I suppose you’re right. Could just be how much we missed you.” He holds his sign back up. “Very proud, but missed you.”
I’m not one to really feel embarrassment, you get over that pretty fast when every fuck up in a game is analyzed by sportscommentators, but I wouldn’t mind passing on less attention right now.
“I’m right here, I think you can put your sign down now.”
“You must have missed the part where I saidproud—I almost wore my T-shirt too, but the not-fun nurse is on shift today and she said it was too much.”
Thank god for that.
