Page 89 of Ice Ice Maybe
The words hung in the air, unheard by their intended recipient.
I stepped back into the hospital room and was struck by a scene that made my heart melt. Mom sat by Dad’s bedside, her hand gently cradling his. Their eyes were locked in a gaze so tender it felt almost intrusive to witness. Mom’s smile was soft and radiant, filled with a love that had weathered decades and only grown stronger. Dad’s face, despite his ordeal, was lit up with an adoration that matched hers. It was a moment of pure, unguarded affection, a glimpse of the deep connection they’d had, but somehow temporarily had lost.
I cleared my throat and tried to sound casual when I said, “So, what did you and Nolan talk about, Dad?”
He shrugged, but his eyes twinkled mischievously. “Sports, the weather, the abysmal TV selection in this place.”
I rolled my eyes. “Come on, Dad. Spill.”
“We had a fascinating discussion about remote control technology and how it works much better when I have it in my hands,” he deadpanned.
“Dad!” I groaned, exasperated but amused.
I had to admit, it was nice to see this playful side of him return.
Mom chimed in, “Everett, stop teasing her.”
“I’m not teasing,” he protested innocently. “We really talked about the remote. It’s a very important topic, but the stubborn man would not hand it over.”
I narrowed my eyes at him, ready to give him a question that was much more direct. “And Nolan’s intentions with me? What did he say about those?”
A smile formed on his face—he was clearly enjoying this. “If you want to know so badly, ask him yourself.”
I threw my hands up in defeat. “Fine, keep your secrets. But remember, I’m in charge of your Jello intake for the next forty-eight hours.”
Dad gasped theatrically. “Threatening a sick man’s Jello supply is cruel and unusual punishment. I raised you better than that. What’s next, stealing candy from babies?”
We all burst into laughter, the tension of the day finally breaking. As frustrating as Dad could be, moments like these reminded me how lucky we were to still have him here with us, cracking jokes and smiling, like he had done when I was younger.
“All right, you win this time,” I conceded. “But don’t think this is over.”
Dad grinned. “I wouldn’t believe that for even a second.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nolan
Three Days Later…
I strolled along the Embarcadero toward Portside Coffee & Gelato to meet Tyson for coffee, barely noticing the familiar sights of theUSS Midwayand Broadway Pier. My mind was focused entirely on the evening ahead, a mix of excitement and nervous energy coursing through me. My parents had flown in from Milwaukee and tonight they’d meet Zena for the first time. Their enthusiasm had been evident in every phone call since they’d seen us on television holding hands outside of the Nashville police station after Mitch was released. All they could talk about was wanting to meet the woman who had captured their son’s heart.
I looked forward to catching up with Zena about her parents as well, but I knew that, true to his word, Mr. Dalton had already started changing his lifestyle. It was a relief to hear that he was taking his health seriously.
There was one small cloud on my otherwise sunny horizon: Mom’s insistence on preparing a “special meal” for the occasion. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mother dearly, but her culinaryskills are, let’s say …unique. I wondered what creation she’d conjure up this time and prayed that it was edible. Hopefully, Zena’s palate was as adventurous as her spirit.
As I approached Portside Coffee & Gelato, I ordered our usual drinks—two iced Americanos—and settled at a table inside the glass dome that overlooked the bay. A minute later, Tyson walked in, his eyes scanning the tables.
I waved to get his attention. “Over here!”
He squinted dramatically as he approached, pretending he did not know who I was. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
“Hilarious,” I said, standing to give him a hug.
Tyson stiffened. “Seriously, do you always hug strangers?”
“Only the ones whose butts I’m going to kick if they don’t sit down,” I retorted. “Besides, you were basking in the sun in Cabo San Lucas for the last few days. It’s not like I could have seen you any earlier.”
Tyson plopped into the chair across from me. “I wasn’t basking, I was bronzing, big difference.” He took a sip of his iced Americano. “Thanks for the drink. So, when’s the wedding?”
