“Why the hell didn’t you go to emergency?” I admonished.
“Not wastin’ my money. I just need you to cut it off for me. But be careful. I gotta try and save it.”
“Jesus, Dad, you’re insane.” I washed my hands and studied the wound. “What happened?”
“I was changing a fuse and missed the live wire next to it. The damn thing sent an arc and fused the ring to my finger.”
“I coulda had Doc bring his shit,” I said as I slid the wire cutters under the band as gently as I could.
“Don’t wanna waste his time.” He grimaced as I snipped the gold and set the cutters down. “Sorry I pulled you away.”
“It’s okay, Pop. This was more important.” I used the pliers to pull the ring away from the skin and once it was free, I loaded his hand up with triple antibiotic ointment, then bandaged it.
“Thanks,” Dad said.
“Did you get the fuse changed?” I asked, throwing the bandage remnants away.
“No.”
“Basement?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I’ll take care of it,” I said. “Take some ibuprofen or Tylenol while I do that.”
“Thanks, Bud.”
I headed down to the basement and saw the exposed wire he was talking about, so I capped it, then changed the fuse that was blown before checking the others. After clearing away the mess and putting away the tools my dad had left laying around, I headed back upstairs to find him with a beer in one hand and an open one waiting for me.
He waved to the seat across from him. “Did you work it out with your woman?”
“Yeah.” I flopped into the seat and took a long pull from the bottle. “She’s home. At the compound for the moment.” I studied the table. “She’s pregnant.”
“Wow,” he said quietly. “You okay?”
“She’s refusin’ to marry me.”
“No kiddin’?”
“Yeah.” I sighed. “You interrupted that argument when you called.”
He chuckled. “My timing’s always been perfect.”
I smiled. “Maybe so.”
“Where are you at with Jennifer and Ezra?”
I waited for pain to slice through my chest, but what came was just bittersweet memories instead. “It’s better, Pop. Lyric’s changed everything.”
He smiled, reaching over to squeeze my arm. “I’m real proud of you, son.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I rasped, and took another sip of my beer. “Why don’t you come by the club tonight and eat with us? Doc can look at your hand and you can meet Lyric.”
“I can do that.”
I stood and dumped the rest of my beer, then threw the bottle in the recycling bin. Dad followed me out to my bike and hugged me.
“Six,” I said, and he nodded, before I climbed on and took off.
