Page 70 of Saving the Last Heir
With that, the conversation petered out, and we ate in a surprisingly companionable silence for the next several minutes. The food really was good, and I could have gone for seconds, but instead, I stood and placed my dishes in the sink, then patted Dad on the shoulder.
“What are you going to do today?” I asked.
He took a sip of coffee. “I’m going to theLoteriaclub.”
“Is thatthisweekend?” I said. “I thought you went last weekend.”
“They’re doing an additional one. There’s a raffle for the winner. A steak dinner for two at The Charcoal House.” He lifted his hand to show the fingers crossed. “I’ve got a good feeling.”
I shot a glance outside at his old beat-up truck, and before I could stop myself, I said, “Why don’t you let me call the medi-bus company? They can give you a ride there and back?”
His smile faltered, and he glanced at Jackson before looking at me again.
“You know I hate riding on that thing,” he said, keeping his voice low.
Of course I knew that, but it didn’t change the fact that it was safer. With his arthritis, I always worried about him driving alone. If something happened and he needed to react fast, he might be too slow given the pain in his joints. I had nightmares of him trying to swerve out of the way of a drunk driver, crying out in pain as his shoulder joints screamed in agony, and then getting obliterated on the road.
“It’s for invalids and old farts who can’t remember what day it is,” he went on. “I’ll be fine. I was fine last night, wasn’t I?”
“Yes, Dad, but that was only three blocks. TheLoteriaclub is halfway across the city. It’s not worth a steak dinner if you get into an accident.”
“I will be fine,” he said. His tone was good-natured, but the look in his eyes told me the conversation was over, and he didn’t want to argue in front of our guest.
Sighing, I crossed my arms. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. And if you win, you bet your assI’mthe one you’re taking for that steak dinner.”
He grinned and patted my arm. “Of course.”
Jackson stood and carried his plate to the sink.
“I want to thank you again for breakfast, Mark. It was great.”
“Thank you for taking care of my little girl,” Dad said.
Jackson and I shared a look, both of us remembering exactlyhowhe’d taken care of me the night before. Dad’s face went ashen with embarrassment as he realized his mistake and what he’d accidentally insinuated.
“Uh…well…I didn’t mean?—”
“And that’s enough ofthatconversation,” I said, taking Jackson’s hand and leading him to the front door. “Love you, Dad!” I shoved Jackson through the door.
“Love you, dear,” he called after us.
“Sweet fuck,” I muttered. “That last bit was awkward.”
Jackson smirked. “That wasn’t what he meant.”
“Wellno, but it was still awkward.”
Jackson chuckled and pointed to the left. “Let’s head that way. I need to find a spot where I can shift.”
We walked in silence for a bit, heading for a collection of closed businesses to the north.
“I really liked your father,” Jackson said at last.
Unable to stop the smile from creeping onto my face, I gave a reluctant nod. “He’s pretty amazing, yeah.Exceptwhen he won’t listen to me,” I said, huffing in frustration.
“I take it his arthritis is pretty bad?”
“It’s getting worse. He needs multiple joint replacements, but even with insurance, the co-pays and stuff are too much. Plus, he’s still fairly young, but I don’t know anyone who’s had knees, hips,andshoulders replaced. Then there’s his back… Jesus, it sounds even worse when you say it out loud.”
