He sounds surprisingly alert and as strong as ever, even though I’m always shocked that he looks frailer than the man I grew up with. He and Grady are identical twins, but now he looks like Grady’s older brother. Em’s keeping Grady young, and my mother’s got to be aging my father. I feel weary after every session, and she and I barely look at each other in those.
“Dad, hey. Sorry to call so late. I didn’t realize it was . . . well, I’m just leaving the studio.” I barrel ahead with an apology before he asks for an explanation. “Sorry I missed yesterday’s session with Dr. Ramirez. I didn’t mean to blow it off.”
“It’s fine,” he says. “But I wanted to call and make sure you were okay.”
I hesitate, weighing how much deeper I want to allow him into my life. Kai’s about as deep as you can get with me, so sharing anything about her would crack open that door between my father and me just that much more.
“My girlfriend, Kai, collapsed during one of her concerts. Not sure if you heard. It was on the news a lot last week. She was in the hospital.”
“I did hear. I actually left you a voicemail checking to see if she was okay.”
His concern startles me. I can’t imagine him doing something like that years ago.
“Sorry. I didn’t check all my voicemails,” I say. “I kind of forgot about everything else. I went home with her to recuperate. I should be able to make next week’s session. We’ll have to see how she’s doing.”
“Maybe we could . . .” My father’s voice goes somewhere I’ve rarely heard it go. To uncertainty. “Maybe we could have coffee or something when you get back. You know, meet outside the session.”
Holy shit.
“Uh, we could do that.” I tap the steering wheel. “Coffee’s kind of public for me, though. Maybe you could . . . come to the house for dinner or something.”
Thank God it’s almost midnight, and there’s hardly any traffic because this conversation requires my complete focus.
“Dinner?” Surprise tinges his voice. “Sure. I’d . . . well, I’d like that.”
“Kai’s a great cook,” I continue before I think better of it. “Did I mention she’s from Georgia? Can you believe I ended up with a girl from Georgia?”
“A Southerner, huh?” His laugh makes him sound freer than I’ve heard in a long time. Maybe ever. “You sure know how to pick ‘em.”
“And to top it off, she’s a Baptist. As in church. Crazy, right? Anyway, they fry chicken in this big black pot, in like a foot of grease. It’s the best thing you’ll ever taste. I think I’m getting her a pot for our back yard.”
“That sounds nice,” he says, that smile still in his voice. “I’d love to come.”
It’s unspoken between us, but we both know I’m extending the invitation only to him. My mother . . . that’s still another issue entirely.
“How about I call you when I get back from taking care of her? Or . . . I guess you could call. Or whatever.”
“That’d be great.” He pauses. “Thanks for calling me back, Rhyson.”
“Sure. I mean, of course.” I roll my eyes at myself. “Yeah.”
Smooth. Real smooth. You’re such a baller, Gray.
“Talk to you later, son.”
I can’t remember the last time I didn’t flinch when he called me that. The fact that I don’t gives me hope I wasn’t sure I’d ever have.
I’m still processing our conversation when I walk into the house. It’s completely quiet. I’m replaying every word I said to my dad, wondering if I should have said more, less.
I need to talk to Kai. She always helps me sort my shit. I wouldn’t even be wrestling with this had it not been for her forcing me . . . er, encouraging me . . . to go to counseling. I’m dialing her number before I think twice about it, not even factoring in the lateness of the hour, the time difference, nothing. Just as I’m realizing it’s about three in the morning there, and am about to disconnect, I hear my song Lost ringing up the staircase. The closer I get, I think it’s coming from my bedroom.
I cross the threshold, and sure enough, Kai is curled up asleep fully clothed on my bed, the phone ringing by her side. She sits up groggily, patting the bed to search for the phone. I’m there before she can even get to it, pulling her up, sitting on the edge of the bed and straddling her over me, knees on either side of my legs.
“Hey, what are you doing here?” I bury my head in her hair and her neck, inhaling cinnamon and pear. “I mean, you’re great to come home to, but I was on my way back to Glory Falls tomorrow night.”
She nods into my neck, her fingers clutching my elbows, her slight frame pressing into me.
“I know.” She lays her temple to my shoulder. “I needed to talk to you.”
“You okay?” I tug on the hair streaming down her back until she’s forced to look at me. I know what she looks like at peace. The tumult in those beautiful eyes fists my heart. “What’s wrong, Pep? Aunt Ruthie?”
“No.” She remains on my lap, but scoots back a little, legs folded under her thighs on the bed, arms crossed over her waist. “Aunt Ruthie’s fine. She’s good.”
Her eyes drop again, so I palm her chin, tilting her face back up to me.
“What’s going on?”
She closes her eyes and swallows, pressing her lips together.
“My dad came to see me.”
Of all the things I would have imagined she’d say, that never entered my mind.