Page 32 of Painting Her Fate

HA! As if. Now that’s a horrific thought if there ever was one.

Next thing I know the lift dings. I step out to the corridor and head to the nurses’ station for directions to my dad’s room. I thank them then find his new room with ease.

“Knock, knock.” I rap on the door frame as I enter.

“Ah, there she is.” My dad beams his mega-watt smile. “Sweetheart. I am so happy to see you.” He opens his arms to welcome me, then his eyes go wide, his arms fall to his lap when he catches sight of my bandaged arm.

“What the hell happened to you?” I wave away his worry and embrace him.

“It’s nothing.” I peck his cheek but he’s too alarmed to notice.

“That looks like something. You better tell me what happened. Did you fall?” His brows draw together, his worry and anger are primed and set for lift-off.

The man has a mean temper when someone he cares about is threatened. Here we go.

“You- could say that.” I stammer then bolster my defenses. Dad is not going to take this well. He pats an open spot on the bed asking me to sit. I obey then try to give him the cliff notes version of my morning. “I took a longer route to get a better view of the water. I stopped near a brick building to catch my breath and ended up being attacked.”

My nose scrunches, I know what is coming.T- minus, three- two- one. We have lift-off.His eyes widen and the heart rate indicator kicks up on the monitor. Yeah, definitely not the right thing to say. In my defense the man would hound me until I let out the truth.

“You have to be kidding me!?” He tries sitting up but only groans and clutches at his ribs. The heart monitor now beeps an alarm, “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His jaw ticks and his anger spurs him on. “Where is the bastard now? When I get my hands on him-”

“Dad, calm down. I’m fine.” I heave a sigh. “Two men from the bar came to my rescue.” I gesture to my arm, “It’s just a small scrape from knocked to the pavement, nothing more.” I add a little dry humor to my tone, “besides, we match now.” I laugh dryly.

I’ll leave out the part about the knife; he doesn’t need the added stress on top everything. The monitor calms its alarm as he visibly relaxes. A faint smile toys at the edges, and just as swiftly a frown takes its place.

“That isn’t funny. You could’ve been seriously hurt, or worse.” His tone lightens when he sees my face fall, “But I am glad you’re safe.” He widens his smile, “I want to meet the men who helped you.”

“One is being checked over and will be here shortly.” I steer him in a different direction, “How are you feeling?”

He takes my diversion and raises me a side eye, his only tell of when he’s caught on to my deflection.

“Well,” he begins, and now I’m the one giving him the side eye. I have a feeling I know where this is headed. “I’ve tried to get myself out of bed. The nurses do not seem to care for that very much.”

“Daaad!” now I’m the one to take on the roll as parent, “you have to do what they tell you. There is no need to do too much, too fast, you’re going to end up breaking something else if you fall.”

I do not use my motherly tone with him often, but I feel it is necessary given what he has already been through. Maybe this way I will get my point across.

“I know, I know.” He huffs a breath, “You know, you’re acting just like your Gran, fussing over me like this.”

I think my dad just gave me an eye roll. Well, two can play at that game.

“I was taught by the best.” I thrust my chin up. Gran would be proud of me for standing my ground and not giving into his whining. My Gran has told me how much my dad and I are one in the same. We tend to have the same determination about anything we set our minds to.

“Ha, ha. Very funny.” He takes a sip of his water, “By the way, how is Gran doing these days? It’s been about a month or so since I’ve talked to her. Always on the go that woman.”

We sit there and talk for an hour about the family, how big my sister Sadie has become, how my artwork is going, and of course how the gala is coming along. His lunch of broth, applesauce, and jelly is served at noon. He finishes everything on his tray and as the attendant comes in, grabs his tray, then leaves, there is a knock.

“Lili, are you in here?” Zander’s familiar voice sounded.

I hop off the bed and walk to the door, my heart, dare I say, skipping a beat. “In here.” I give him a warm smile and gesture him inside. His arm is back in the sling and his countenance is calm, not pained like earlier.

I wonder if I should drive us or order a ride, just to be safe. If they gave him a powerful pain blocker, he may not be able to drive his truck. I’d almost enjoy seeing this man squirm a bit at the thought of someone else driving his precious vehicle. The stubborn man.

“So, this is the man that saved my daughter.” My dad says, holding out his hand to Zander. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Daniel Thompson.”

Zander takes it firmly in his. “Pleasure is mine, sir. Alexander Gorski.”

“Gorski.” Dad’s eyes narrow, “That name is familiar. You wouldn’t happen to be the same Gorski from the news a couple years ago, would you?”

---