Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77999 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“I will. Good night, Wes.
“Goodnight, beautiful.”
Once I hung up, I tossed my phone on the table and forced myself out of bed. After I changed out of my work clothes, I washed my face and crawled into bed. Thankfully, my overactive brain didn’t keep me up too terribly long, and I was able to fall asleep at a decent hour. The following morning, I got up and headed into work early, as planned.
As promised, Mark brought coffee, and I was pleased to see that he was in much better spirits. And because of that, we were actually able to get some work done. In fact, we were able to finish all our reports and get them turned in a day early. I left the office feeling pretty good about things—at least at work.
I was still feeling apprehensive about seeing my father, especially after what Weston had told me about his mother. It was bad enough knowing that he was having financial trouble, but finding out that he was having marital problems took my worry to a whole new level. I just wanted to know that he was okay, so I grabbed some take out and headed over to the house.
When I reached the front door, I stopped and took a deep breath, then knocked and eased the door open. “Dad! Are you here?”
“Antonia?” Dad came rushing out of his office, and his eyes lit up when he saw me. “I didn’t know you were coming by.”
“Thought I would surprise you.” I lifted the bag of Chinese takeout as I told him, “I brought dinner.”
“You didn’t have to do that.” He reached out and gave me a hug as he asked, “Did you get eggrolls?”
“Of course.”
“That’s what I’m talking about.”
I was pleased to see that he was in a relatively good mood. I hoped that was a sign that things weren’t as bad as I might’ve thought. I followed him into the kitchen and placed the bag on the table. I started taking out the various containers while he made us both something to drink. “Where’s Kay? I brought her some sesame seed chicken.”
“Ah... She’s not here.” He sat down and started making himself a plate as he told me, “She’s at one of her book clubs or game nights or prayer groups. I don’t know which. It’s hard to keep up.”
“Oh, man. I hate I missed her.”
“She’ll hate that she missed you, too, but... hmmm.” His words trailed off as he took a bite of eggroll. He was still chewing when he asked, “So, how are things with you?”
“Good, but busy. You know how that can be.”
“I definitely do.”
I was growing tired of the small talk, so I decided to just go for it and said, “I actually came by here because I wanted to talk to you about...”
“You haven’t told me about Weston.” he interrupted. “Is he still doing better?”
He was deflecting.
I wasn’t surprised.
He never was the type to want to talk, especially when it came to anything serious. I had no choice but to play along. “He’s doing much better, but I’m sure Kay told you that.”
“Yes, but she hasn’t been there with him like you have.”
“Well, he’s been working really hard with his therapy, and now, he’s out of the wheelchair completely and walking with a cane.”
“Wow. That’s great. I’m glad to hear it.” He took another bite of food before adding, “Maybe next time he will think twice before getting on that motorcycle of his.”
“I doubt it. Wes has really missed riding, and I don’t think he’ll ever let go.” He continued eating like he didn’t have a care in the world. “Dad, I was really hoping we could talk about—”
He cut me off again by asking, “Did you have to cook for him?”
“Yes, a time or two.”
“Hmph. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you had a thing for him.”
“And what if I did?”
“You saying you do?”
“Yeah, as matter of fact I do.”
“Well, that certainly explains a lot.” He chuckled as he shook his head. “Who’d have thought it.”
“It wasn’t planned. If anything, we did our best to avoid it.”
Dad actually gave me some true fatherly advice when he said, “Life is too short for all that. If you really care about him, then make it happen.”
“Thanks. I really appreciate you saying that.”
“I mean it. I want you to be happy.”
“And I want the same for you.” Before he could interrupt, I quickly added, “I’m really worried about you.”
“Worried about me?” His smile faltered for a moment, but then it was back, a little forced this time. “Why on earth would you be worried about me?”
“You’re not yourself. You haven’t been yourself since Mom died... even before then.”
“That’s nonsense.”
“But it’s not, Dad,” I pushed. “It’s like you’ve been pulling away, and it’s getting harder and harder to reach you. And I’m not the only one who’s felt it.”