Fuck. Now I’m crying.
“Probably. But we’re here now, and the doctors said he’ll heal. And it won’t set his recovery back more than a few months. He just needs to do other things to keep his strength and coordination improving. He will. Your dad is anything but lazy.”
I shake with a small laugh.
“He’s a little lazy,” I tease.
Hunter’s soft laughter vibrates in his chest as he sways with me in his arms.
Lindsey passes through the living room and pops the end of her carrot into her mouth “I’m gonna get Dad. You two work out whatever—” She swirls her finger in our direction.
I lean out of Hunter’s embrace when her back is to me, then arch a brow at him.
“I hope she chokes on that thing,” I say under my breath, which makes him laugh even harder.
“Okay, settle down. Thelastthing you need is another medical emergency. Also, I threw the rest of the carrots away outside, so she won’t be getting another.” He smiles down at me, and I rise on my tiptoes to kiss him with my own grin.
“Bless you, Hunter Reddick.”
My sister wheels our father into the room, and my mom lingers behind, holding her laptop in one hand while bouncing her gaze between the present world needing her full attention and whateverimportant workis on the screen.
“Let me try . . . to do it . . . on my own,” my father says, swatting my sister’s hand away. Lindsey grimaces at him but backs off after rolling her eyes at me.
“I’m just going to stand close as a precaution, if that’s cool with you, Dale?” Hunter doesn’t wait for my father to say no, stepping within a quick grasp of my father as his forearms flex with his own weight. He manages to move himself from the wheelchair to the edge of the upright chair he’s going to have to deal with for the next several months. He scoots himself back, then pulls the strap fixed to his cast to lift his full right leg up to the ottoman. He looks utterly ridiculous sunk into the chair and not scooted back completely, but he folds his hands over his belly and looks up at me with such pride, I can’t help but clap.
“You did it on your own, all right. How’s the fit?” I glance from him to the TV, which, thankfully, he can see from this spot in the room.
“I’m miserable, but it . . . will do,” he jokes.
“I think we’ll manage just fine,” my mom says, setting her laptop down on the ottoman next to my father’s feet and leaning over him to kiss the top of his head.
I stare at the scene for a bit, fully aware of the disgust weighing down the corners of my eyes and mouth.
“I’m going to the store to get a few things. I’ll be back,” I say. “Lindsey, you staying for dinner?” My fuse is already short from the fact my sister isn’t paying attention to me, but rather is staring at the stupid social media apps on her phone.
I snap my fingers and she glances up.
“Huh?” She clearly didn’t hear me. Her face is devoid of absolutely every emotion. She’s basically here to take up space.
I shake my head. “Never mind. Just go home,” I say, heading out the door.
“No, wait. I’m sorry.” She rushes to catch up to me, pushing her phone into her back pocket before snagging her purse from the hook on the coat rack.
“You stay here. I’ll go get some easy stuff for dinner. I just wanted to know if you’d be staying, is all.” She gives me a blank look but then shakes her head, almost as if she’s a robot needing a reboot.
I lean in close.
“Is something going on?” I ask, breathing in to see if she’s drunk or something. She smells fine, though, and I know she drove Dad and me home from the hospital an hour ago.
“I got some upsetting news,” she says, quickly snapping her mouth shut, as if she regrets speaking the words in the first place.
“What’s going on?” I pry.
My sister’s expression deflates, but her wry smile comes back into play.
“I’m not laying one more burden on you, Ren,” she says with a short laugh.
“Oh, come on. I mean, what’s one more thing, right?” An exhausted half smile hits my lips as I loop my arm with hers. “Let’s go. We’ll hit the store together.”
