“Something else you say to a toddler in need of a nap,” he grumbled.
“What do you want, Dad?” Wendy asked. “Let’s make it happen. I can send Neil out for ice cream.”
“See? This one gets it. I need junk food and comfort, not scolding and coddling.”
I turned an annoyed look at her, and she stuck her tongue out at me and singsonged, “I’m Daddy’s favorite.”
Mom came into the room, already dressed in pajamas and a robe. Thankfully, Dad was already wearing sweats and wouldn’t have to change for bed.
“Why is everyone standing around?” she asked.
“Good question,” I said. “Why were you getting up?”
“Uh…” Dad looked around, seeming a little lost. “I needed the TV remote.”
“But it’s on your stand,” Mom said, pointing.
Dad shook his head. “No, it’s not. I looked—oh.” Mom moved aside some mail, revealing it. “I guess it was there all along. All this fuss for nothing.”
“Want help back into the recliner?” I asked.
“Might as well pee while I’m up,” he mumbled, as if I hadn’t suggested that exact thing two minutes ago.
He used the walker to shuffle into the half bath attached to the living room.
While he was in there, I heard more cussing. Dad kept forgetting not to move in ways that hurt him. But it was only his first day home. He’d get the hang of it, and soon, he’d visit his doctor for physical therapy.
Fun times ahead.
“You guys can handle it from here?” I asked Wendy. “I’ve got an early morning for work.”
“Yeah, you did your time,” she said. “We’ll get him to bed and check in tomorrow.”
Wendy and I had worked out a plan to take turns stopping by to help Dad as he recovered. If Mom hurt herself trying to help him, she’d be going in for surgery next.
“I wanted to be here,” I said, “but Dad’s a little tired of me.”
Wendy grinned. “Well, I’ll enjoy being the favorite daughter while it lasts.”
“At least you can make Neil be the bad guy.”
Neil grimaced. “I hate being the bad guy.”
“Aw.” Wendy kissed his sulky mouth. “You’ll just have to take one for the team.”
“All right, I’m out then. Good luck with the grouch.”
“I heard that!” Dad called from the bathroom.
Mom hugged me. “Thanks for everything, honey.”
“No problem. I’ll stop in after work tomorrow.” I clapped Neil on the back, stuck my tongue out at Wendy, and headed home to catch some sleep.
When I pulled into the driveway, Maverick’s toy car was gone. Damn. He must have gone out. It was Sunday night, so maybe he’d be back soon.
I needed to kiss him again—if only to prove it hadn’t been some sort of wild fever dream. Needed his body against mine, the heat of him seeping into my every pore, his hot mouth driving me to distraction while he pushed his fingers inside of me.
Or maybe even something else.
