Page 10 of Thunder

“He’s my nephew,” I remind him before I check my watch and say, “I’ve got to get going, uh, all the shelves are restocked,” then without allowing him to reply, I quickly walk out of the shop and head to my Toyota Corolla that I managed to find on the cheap a month ago when my civic broke down.

Whereas my siblings have everything handed to them, I have had to figure everything out on my own, and that is just how life has been for me.

***

My phone rings for the eighth time since I left the store twenty minutes ago. I sigh as I throw my keys on the kitchen counter along with my jacket, then grab my phone from my bag and check the caller ID, not wanting to answer if it is my mama.

There are only so many ‘I’m so disappointed in you’ calls I can take lately.

It isn’t my fault my sister screwed my boyfriend and got knocked up. It isn’t my fault that her husband got a vasectomy behind her back.

I pause, seeing Dad flash on the screen, and hover my thumb over it before the call goes to voicemail, giving me my decision. I begin to relax, but of course Dad doesn’t give up.

My phone rings again, and I sigh, knowing he won’t stop, meaning I won’t be able to sleep, and I answer, “Good morning, Dad…”

“Scottie, I have tried calling you several times. Do you know how rude it is to ignore your father's calls?” he snaps with a condescending tone, and I roll my eyes before I eye Felix weaving in and out of my legs.

“I was working, Dad,” I reply, hoping my tone is light, while not taking my eyes off the villain cat.

“You work a lot at the hospital,” he mutters, and I swallow hard.

No one knows I work two jobs, only Sammie and that kid, well, he has my back, and I really don’t need my judgmental father finding out, because then he’ll berate my job.

“I’m a surgical resident, Dad, I have to work twenty-four-hour shifts three to four times a week and sometimes the shifts last longer,” I mutter as I take a seat on a stool, still eyeing my demon cat.

Yesterday while I was trying to sleep, the little shit clawed at my foot because he wanted extra food, and honestly, I should have called him Demon not Felix.

“Surgical?” he gasps, “You’ve gone down the surgical route?”

I clear my throat and admit, “I did, and I’m leaning more towards general surgery because that dabbles in a little bit of everything, but in the ER.” I twitch my nose before I add, “I also graduated med school a year early, I’m nearly a year into residency and next month I’ll be taking my final medical license exam.”

Felix meows, and I narrow my eyes at the thing just as Dad clears his throat and mumbles, “Your sister said you failed college and was a cleaner at the hospital…”

“No offense, Dad, but Rachel has seen me at work several times, even tried dropping Sammie off with me after I just started a shift and I was with a patient,” I retort, fed up with my sister being treated like the best while I’m treated like the worst. I add, “I even sent you tickets for my graduation, but I’m guessing they got lost, huh?”

“Scottie,” he sighs, but I cut him off and demand, “Why did you call, Dad? I just finished a night shift, and I’m tired.”

I don’t want to hear his pathetic excuses. I’m fed up with being treated like a disappointment, when I’m the only one of his children who paid their own way.

“I didn’t know you sent tickets, Scottie. I’m sorry,” he says, and I grit my teeth, my anger building, and he sighs, “I’m calling because I wanted to know if you were still hurt over your sister marrying Kavan?”

I raise a brow at that and state, “First of all, Dad, lets call it what it was, my sister cheated with my first boyfriend and made sure I caught them. Call a spade a spade and second of all, no I’m not, once a cheater always a cheater as far as I’m concerned. My job is all I can focus on right now, first year of residency is the most important. It shapes you in front of your peers, heck, Dr. Thomas has even let me stitch people up, already proving to the other attendants that I’m top student.”

“You sound passionate,” he whispers, and I swallow the lump forming.

This conversation is weird. Normally, he puts me down with whatever accusation has been made and then hangs up.

He’s never taken an interest in my life or sounded, dare I say, proud?

I don’t like it.

“I am passionate because my job is my life. I love helping others, I love the people I work with and how fast the environment is,” I admit quietly, “I love the thrill I get seeing that I help to fix someone. The ER is amazing and fast, and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else in my life.”

Dad quiets for a moment, and Felix paws at my leg, causing me to narrow my eyes at the little demon.

I swear, I am not opposed to spraying that thing with water or kicking it out of the window.

“So, you having so-called jealous tendencies is not why you’re not coming to the party Friday then?” he confirms, and I frown.