Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 60234 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60234 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 301(@200wpm)___ 241(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
“Lunch right now is an excellent place to start.” Mom smiles, clapping her hands while Eleanor, aka Ellie, shuffles around at the stove. “Don’t you think?” she adds. Mom is a force of nature, and it’ll kill her to let me lead our reconciliation. That alone might be worth the effort.
“Lunch sounds good,” I tell her.
She ushers us into the dining room while Ellie gets our food on the table.
“Are you seeing anyone?” Mom asks if the answer doesn’t matter when I know it does.
I think about Maggie, and my heart jumps. “I am. In fact, I’m thinking about marrying her.”
“Is this girl a biker, too?” Mom’s tone is laced with disdain. “You can’t be serious, Kane.”
I smile and accept a sandwich from the platter she offers me. “She isn’t a biker chick. Not until I make her one.” How in the hell I’ll convince Maggie to stay with me in Angel Harbor is anybody’s guess. “And I am serious. Completely. Totally.”
“Well, when you sort out the wrinkles, we can’t wait to meet her,” Dad offers with a smile. “Isn’t that right, Christie?”
Mom sucks in a sharp breath, nostrils flaring as she prepares to make her case against a woman she hasn’t even met.
“Isn’t that right, Christie?” Dad tries again, his voice firmer this time, his tone telling her to cut the bullshit.
“Yes, of course,” she says in clipped tones, pouring iced tea to cover her temper. “We can’t wait to meet your future wife.” Her smile is tight, but it’s a start.
I laugh, and it feels good to laugh at my parents instead of hating and resenting them. “She’s pissed at me right now, so I have to convince her first.”
“Well, if she has any brains, she’d know she’s lucky to have you,” Mom says, but I still see the contempt in her eyes.
“I’m the lucky one, or I will be if I can make her see we belong together.” And in Angel Harbor. It’s an uphill battle, but so is PTSD, and slowly but surely, I’m getting my shit under control. By comparison, Maggie should be easy.
My mom stares at me like she wants to say something. She lets out her breath and sits there poking at her salad.
“What is it, Mom?”
She looks at me, tears brimming in her eyes, and says, “Kane, the real reason we called you here... Your father has cancer.”
The words hit me like a punch in the fucking gut. “What? Dad has cancer?” My chest tightens, and I force myself to take a deep breath, turning to look at my father.
“Son don’t worry about it,” Dad says, his voice soft but firm. “I told your mother not to tell you. Christie, see what you’ve done?”
My mom’s voice quivers as she replies, “Well, he’s your son and a doctor. He needs to know.”
“Yes, I am your son, Dad. I need to know. Mom, I’m not an oncologist. I’m an emergency doctor. A trauma doctor.”
“Well, your father having cancer is an emergency!” she exclaims, tears flowing freely now as she storms off. Her sobs echo down the hallway.
“Jesus, I told her not to say anything. Kane, I’m fine,” Dad says, attempting to reassure me, but I can see the emotion in his eyes. “I found a lump in my neck a while back and went to see the doctor about it.”
“And?” The word catches in my throat.
“They ran some tests, and it turns out it’s thyroid cancer.” Dad takes a deep breath, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “Now, don’t be too alarmed. The doctor says it’s treatable, especially since we caught it early.”
I feel a weight lifting, but the fear is still there. “Thank God for that. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“The best thing you can do for me is to mend your relationship with your mother. She’s driving me a little crazy.” He chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. “Thanks for coming up, son. It means a lot.”
A sigh, long and shaky, wrestles its way out of me. “I’ll do what I can, Dad.” I stand, my hand out for the expected shake, but he’s up, too, pulling me into a bear hug that feels like a vice. I pat his back, lost in a whirlwind of emotions that claw at my insides.
“I love you, son. Take care of yourself and bring your lady up here so we can meet her,” he says, his voice cracking.
“Will do, old man, I love you.” It’s all too damn much. I make for the door, feeling his eyes on me, and I swing it open, only to look back at him, tears in his eyes. “Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
“Tell Mom I said goodbye, and I love her. See you soon.”
“You got it! Be safe out there, Doc.”
The door closes behind me, and I smile. It’s bittersweet. Doc, that’s what Maggie calls me. I wipe the tears angrily from my eyes, the unpleasantness of the moment stinging like salt in a wound. The ride back to Angel Harbor’s gonna be a mind-fuck.