Page 53 of Erik's Redemption
“Dad, there is no way I’m letting you up on this ladder. I’ll fix your gutters. I just did mine anyway.” Erik kept his voice light because he knew it was killing his dad not being able to do it himself. He’d always been a hands-on, able-bodied man, but since his heart attack, he’d been doing a lot less. Very few people walked away from a heart attack unscathed, his father included.
Erik had received the call from their mother an hour ago, asking him to come over to fix the gutters because his father was already on the ladder doing it himself. Erik had sure as hell rushed over to make his stubborn-ass father get down.
“Fine,” his dad grumbled from the bottom of the ladder. “But if you’re not going to let me help fix my own gutters, at least tell me how you’re doing.”
He paused, the question surprising him. It shouldn’t have. He’d barely been talking to his parents since everything had gone down with Hannah.
“Everything’s actually okay, Dad.” A hell of a lot better after kissing Hannah a few nights ago. Since then, whenever he’d caught glimpses of her, she smiled at him. Waved. And eachtime, he swore he saw the same emotion in her eyes that tumbled through his chest. The longing. The need. Thelove.
It gave him hope.
Once the gutter was secure, he climbed down.
“That’s good,” his father said, voice softening. “Your mother and I have been worried about you for the last few weeks. You haven’t been coming to Sunday dinners. You’ve barely answered our calls.”
His back teeth ground together, and he wanted to kick his own ass. He’d become so damn good at hiding from those who loved him when times were tough. He needed to stop doing that. “I’m sorry. Things between Hannah and I have been…complicated.”
Complicated…that was a fucking understatement.
His father’s brows slashed together. “But things are okay now?”
He ran his fingers through his hair. “They’re getting better.”
The older man studied him for what felt like endless seconds. “Can I give you some advice?”
Erik almost laughed. Even if he said no, he was sure his father would dish it out anyway. “Of course.”
“Love doesn’t need to be perfect, it just needs to exist. Every love is flawed in some way. Show me a perfect relationship, and I’ll show you a lie.”
“That’s good. Because our love is far from perfect.” He didn’t want perfect though. He just wanted her. He looked over his father’s shoulder, watching as the leaves in the trees moved with the wind. “I broke what we had. But I hope to put it back together.”
“Love doesn’t break, son,” his father said softly. “It shifts and changes. It grows. And if we’re lucky, we grow with it.”
Damn, he loved his dad. He was the best person Erik knew, and if he could be half the man his father was, then he’d be doing pretty damn well.
When his phone dinged from his pocket, he pulled it out to see a text from his mom. “Mom just got home and asked me to help bring in the groceries.”
“You go help her.” His father nodded toward the back of the yard. “I’ll get those extra nails we need from the toolshed.”
Before his father could turn, Erik gripped his arm. “Hey, thanks. You’ve always given the best advice, and that hasn’t changed.”
“My family is my world, Erik.Youare my world. And I will always be here when you need me.”
Emotion clogged Erik’s throat, making it hard to breathe. He pulled his father in for a hug before stepping back and moving around the house to the garage.
His mother stood by the trunk, holding six bags of groceries in two hands. He was pretty sure one was hanging off a pinkie.
He slipped the bags from her fingers. “I see nothing’s changed. You’re still trying to turn three trips from the car to the kitchen into one.”
She grinned at him as she lifted the last two bags from the trunk. “Darling, it’s called efficiency. One painful trip is better than multiple light ones. Besides, it’s a good arm workout.”
He chuckled and shook his head as he headed into the house. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s the perfect way to strain a muscle.”
“Pfft. I’ve been doing this my whole life and never strained anything.” They set the bags onto the counter. “How are the gutters going?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Almost done. I can see it’s killing Dad to let me do it instead of him.”
Concern flickered in his mother’s eyes. “You haven’t been letting him go up there, though, have you?”
