Page 12 of Pity Play

I know my dad is lucky to be alive, and honestly that’s the only reason I’m here. The very real chance that he might have died before we patched things up has hit me hard. I’ve spent the last several years feeling like he’s responsible for our rift, so it’s his obligation to fix it. But knowing I’m right would be cold comfort if we never made things right between us.

I sit and stare at my dad for what feels like hours, but according to the clock is only forty-five minutes. He starts to stir, and groans loudly while trying to roll over—a feat he obviously can’t perform.

Opening his eyes, my dad recognizes his predicament before calling out to my mom, “Brenda! Get the nurse, please.”

Standing up, I walk over to his bed. When he sees that it’s me and not my mom, I say, “Hi, Dad.”

“Luke. What are you doing here?” He does not sound happy.

I feel like crying, but I opt to use humor to diffuse the tension that’s started to build like a budding wildfire. “I figured I’d come see you before you did something really stupid like taking up skydiving without a parachute.”

Instead of appreciating my attempt at levity, he says, “I didn’t die, so there was no need for you to come.”

“Are you serious?”What is his problem with me?“Did you really think I wouldn’t come home unless you were dead?”

He tries to shrug but fails. The guy is in traction, after all. “You haven’t been back in a long time. Seems to me you don’t care about us one way or the other.”

“Dad,” I start to say, although I really don’t have any idea where to go from here. He knows why I haven’t been home, but there doesn’t seem to be any point in rehashing all of that now.

“Where’s your mom?”

“She went home to take a nap. It sounds like she’s been awake all night with you.”

Grumbling, he says, “I’m hungry. Can you please tell the nurse I want breakfast.”

Nodding my head, I assure him, “I’ll ask her to bring something. Anything special?”

“Toast is fine,” he says. “Maybe a grapefruit.”

Instead of ringing the call button, I walk out of the room. All kinds of emotions are running through me, and I need a minute away from my dad to start to process them.

Not only am I mad at him, but I’m also hurt and confused. During my whole childhood, he talked about how he wanted me to realize all my dreams and how he wanted to help me in any way that he could. Then my dream changed and so did his willingness to support my choices. It boggles the mind.

Stopping by the nurses’ station, I find a bearded man about my age typing into the computer. “Hi there. My dad is in three-oh-eight and he was hoping to get some breakfast.”

The man turns and looks up. Recognition hits immediately. “Tony Hill?”

“Luke Phillips!” he says excitedly before standing up and wrapping his arms around me. “How are you, man? I was hoping I might see you when I saw your dad came in.” Tony and I were good friends from kindergarten until our junior year of high school when his family moved a couple of towns over. It was me, him, and Noah. We ran track together, played basketball, and still managed to chase after all the girls. Yet, once he left town, we hardly ever saw each other. It’s amazing how twenty miles feels more like two thousand when you’re young.

“So, you became a nurse, huh?” I tease him. “Hoping to score a lot of women, I bet.”

“You know me,” he snorts before explaining, “I really wanted to go to med school, but I didn’t want to take on the debt.”

“You probably get more dates this way.” While I know mycomment might sound sexist, I’m guessing there are still more female nurses than male.

He’s quiet for a moment before saying, “I met my husband in nursing school.” The halting pattern of his speech makes me think he’s worried about how I’ll receive this information. But honestly, I could not care less. I work in the restaurant industry in Chicago; half of my staff is gay.

“Congratulations,” I tell him. “Have you been married long?”

His smile indicates obvious relief over my lack of a negative reaction. “Three years. We moved to Elk Lake two years ago when we adopted our daughter. I wanted to raise Raven in the town where I was happiest.”

“I love that,” I tell him. “We had a really good upbringing here, didn’t we?”

“It was idyllic. Tim and I want our daughter to have the same experience.”

“I’d love to meet your family sometime,” I tell him sincerely.

“That would be really nice, Luke.” He turns to type something into his computer and adds, “I just ordered your dad his breakfast.” Then he writes something down on a notepad before pulling the sheet off. Handing it to me, he says, “My number. Let me know when you’re free and we’ll set something up.”

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