Page 111 of Missed Sunrise
Dad snorted and pulled me off the display. “Fine,” he said, but he took a photo of the listing, then gave me a wry smile. “Maybe I want to move to a renovated loft with factory windows and rooftop access. I did say I’ve been wanting a change.”
I scoffed even as excitement lit inside me at the details he listed. “You can’t have Jeanne and the kids there as easily, and there’s no room for a gym either.”
He shrugged, not at all put off by my implications. Interesting.
“If I open a gym downstairs, it wouldn’t matter.”
I took a sip of my drink and stared him down. “And the other thing?”
He looked away, frowning at the cluster of pinned papers. “To be determined, son.”
Looking back to the bulletins, I focused on my indistinct reflection instead of beyond it, wondering what expression I could make that would encourage him to confide in me.
Shaking it off, I decided it didn’t matter. I wasn’t about to practice my expressions in the mirror. My face was my face. I’d just use words instead.
“You can tell me, you know,” I said casually. “Whenever you want to. If there’s something to tell.”
He took a long sip of his own drink before smiling at me. “As can you, son.”
I took out my phone and took a photo of the bulletins, too, and then the contact number for the BTB as well, the start of an idea brewing in my mind.
Once we finished our drinks, we got in our separate vehicles and drove back to his house for a weight circuit. Right as I pulled into Dad’s driveway, a call from Vinh came in. Frowning, I put the truck in Neutral and engaged the break, then hesitated with my hand over the ignition.
Doomsday thoughts swarmed, and my heart suddenly clenched at the idea of something happening to—well, anyone.
I snapped out of it and accepted the call. “Vinh? Is everything okay?”
“Where are you right now?” he asked tonelessly, which did nothing to calm me down.
“My dad’s. Why?”
He sighed heavily into the phone. “I’m sorry to have to ask this, and Dad’s probably going to kill me for it, but can you go to my parents’ house?”
“Yes,” I answered immediately. “What happened?”
Dad appeared at my window then, a concerned look on his face. I held a finger up in a “hold on” gesture as I listened to Vinh.
“Dad fell again,” he explained, the strain finally showing in his tone. “And Bree and I are meeting with attorneys in Gulfport today. Mom is with her ladies’ church group this morning, and Dad forbade me from calling her. But he didn’t say anything about calling you, and with Liem in Gulf Shores, here we are.”
“Hey,” I assured him, “I’ve got it, and I’m headed there now. I’ll update you soon.”
“Thanks, Cody. I owe you one.”
“You don’t,” I said by way of farewell, then hung up and rolled down my window. I assumed it wasn’t so bad, since Vinh hadn’t called an ambulance, but I still explained the situation to Dad quickly and declined his offer to ride along.
I didn’t know Monny Lott well, but I was certain even one person outside of his immediate family seeing him in such a state would be painful for him.
The short drive to the Lott house passed in a blur, and I wasn’t even sure I turned off the truck as I shot out of it and cursed myself for not asking Vinh where his dad had fallen.
“Mr. Lott?” I called out as I cut a path through the yard and to the back. “Ah, shit,” I muttered in alarm as I spotted a leg poking out from beneath a rosebush.
I hurried over to him, navigating my way through a myriad of yard tools scattered on the ground, and relaxed exponentially when I met his gaze, which was clear and alert.
We stared at each other for several moments—him stranded on the ground and covered in dirt and me hovering above him—as a wheel spun in my brain, whirring past the plethora of possibilities of what kind of tone this interaction would have.
I crouched down and picked up a red petal from the dirt. “Stopping to smell the roses, sir?”
He huffed and countered, “And you’re just by for a visit?”
