Page 116 of When the Stars Fall
Jesse snickered as he loaded his plate with salad. He’d been put in charge of the menu planning and consulted one of his nutrition apps. Jesse was a few inches shorter than my six foot three and was all lean muscle. He needed to keep his weight down for moto, he’d told me, and had become a vegetarian a few years ago, much to my father’s dismay.
My mom interrupted my father’s grumbling. “You listen to me, Patrick McCallister. I have a lot of plans for us. You promised me we’d grow old together and you’d damn well better keep that promise. So from now on, I’ll be cooking healthy meals. Now stop complaining and eat your dinner.”
My dad stared at her. Her lips pressed into a flat line, her shoulders squared, daring him to contradict her. Finally, he nodded and reached across the table, giving her hand a squeeze. “It’s good to be home, Kate.”
She smiled. “Good to have you home, honey. And don’t you dare scare me like that again.”
He cleared his throat and picked up his fork. No more words were exchanged but the message was loud and clear. Even after all these years, my parents were still in love and couldn’t imagine their lives without each other.
“I’m heading out to Cali tomorrow,” Jesse said. “I won’t be back until the end of August when the Nationals are over. If you need a place to crash, my apartment is available. It’s nothing great. But it’s yours if you want it.”
I had no pride. “I’ll take it.”
“Cool. Bonus. It’s cheap and close to Li—”
“We have plenty of room in the house,” my mom interrupted. “There’s no need to move out. Nobody needs to live in a garage.”
Jesse laughed. “If it were up to Mom, I’d still be sleeping in my old bunk bed.”
Don’t I know it. I was currently staying in my childhood bedroom that hadn’t changed a bit since I left. Even those stupid trophies were still on the shelves. “I’m thirty years old. I need a place of my own.”
Mom looked disappointed, but she’d get over it.
“Now that we’ve got that out of the way,” my dad said.“Fill me in on what’s happening with the business.”
My father ran a tight ship and kept everything so organized that it hadn’t been hard to pick up where he’d left off. I told him about the site inspections and updated him on the progress of the projects he’d been contracted to complete. He grilled me for twenty minutes, and I had a ready answer for all his questions.
When I finished, he nodded as if my answers were correct. I was thirty years old, I’d been in combat zones, and hadn’t lived at home since I was eighteen. But he was treating me like a teenager. Some things never changed.
“Make sure you stay on top of the sub-contractors. Mike has a tendency to slack on the job. If he thinks he can get an inch, he’ll take a yard. Let him know who’s in charge. We can’t have that brewery project running behind schedule.”
I nearly laughed. The brewery project was right on schedule and Mike was a forty-year-old man who’d been working for my dad for fifteen years. He knew his shit, worked hard, and wasn’t a slacker. If anything, he was the one running the show in my father’s absence. But my dad had trouble letting go of the reins. He liked to be in charge which was something I understood.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ve got everything under control.” I held his gaze until he nodded.
“I’ll call my lawyer. Get him to draw up the paperwork to make you a partner.”
“There’s no rush.”
“It’s better we do it now. Get it all squared away.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. I was hoping to avoid this conversation for a bit longer.
I didn’t think this was the right time to tell him I had no interest in taking over his business or being a general contractor. I was planning to stay in Cypress Springs but I wouldn’t be stepping into his shoes. Team Phoenix was not just a hobby for me. It was my lifeblood and I had no intention of stepping away to run my father’s business.
Last week when I’d driven Gideon to the airport, he told me he could help me and Tommy get more funding for our not-for-profit. I was surprised he’d volunteered to help me, considering how much he’d always resented me. He’d also confided that it was hard following in my footsteps back in high school and he couldn’t wait to get away from home. I asked him if he was happy in New York. He said he felt like he could breathe easier and be his own person and I guess I could understand that too.
“Jude,” my dad prompted. “Something you’re not telling me?”
What I wouldn’t give to tell him the truth for a change. I glanced at my mom. She shook her head, a silent plea for me to keep my mouth shut. She knew I didn’t want the business but she didn’t want me to tell my dad. Not yet, anyway.
The man had just come home from the hospital after a triple bypass. The doctor told my mom he needed rest and the last thing he needed was undue stress which I knew my words would cause him. I’d tell him later.
“No. It’s all good.”
My mom’s shoulders relaxed and she gave me a smile and mouthedThank you.
The next morning I moved out of my childhood bedroom and into Jesse’s one-bedroom apartment above a garage. It smelled like diesel oil. The apartment was a dump but the location was ideal. Half a mile from Lila’s. It was temporary but so were all the other places I’d lived since leaving home.
