Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
At the unexpected realization, Erin’s throat grew tight.
She managed a nod at Jed. “I’ll send Cole in.”
As she headed back to the waiting room, Erin hoped her brief glimpse into Jed’s soul, or at least into the frightened heart of the man in the hospital bed, would lead to some kind of détente between Jed and Cole. And as she told Cole his father would talk to him, she prayed that this wasn’t the last chance either man would have to make things right between them.
* * *
Cole had approached mob bosses, murderers, and drug dealers with more ease than that with which he faced his father again. The weight of a lifetime—his lifetime—sat on Cole’s shoulders. He knew the old man was disappointed in him, and that truth had permeated every part of Cole’s life from the time he’d been old enough to understand what his father’s constant anger meant. As an adult, he’d reached the point where he was more comfortable pretending to be someone else than he was being himself.
For a long time, he’d blamed Jed for that, but his time back here in Serendipity made him look at things differently. He couldn’t blame his father for who and what he was. But those deep thoughts, though raised because of his father’s serious condition, didn’t need to be dissected now.
He walked into the room, doing his best to ignore the beeping heart monitor, the IV drip in his dad’s arm, and the way his larger-than-life father seemed to be shriveled up in the hospital bed.
“Hi,” Cole said stiffly, coming up beside the bed rail.
“Hi, yourself,” Jed muttered, unable, it seemed, to meet Cole’s gaze.
“The doctor says they’re taking you to the OR first thing in the morning.”
Jed nodded. “At least it’ll be before I have time to realize I’m hungry since they’re not feeding me beforehand.”
Cole managed a laugh. “Says it could be a long surgery, but he does it all the time.”
“I won’t know it.”
Same old gruff Jed, Cole thought. “I’ll be here before they take you down, even if you don’t see me.”
Jed hesitated before answering. He curled his hands around the bars on the side of the bed, his knuckles white. “I appreciate that,” he said at last.
Cole raised an eyebrow. He’d been expecting Jed to tell him not to bother. He wondered if Erin had read him the riot act on his behavior or whether genuine fear was behind those words. Like most things with his father, Cole suspected he’d never know.
“Erin’s calling her folks. I’m sure they’ll want to come by tonight and see you before surgery.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“They’re good people. You’re lucky to have them,” he said, meaning it.
“I don’t deserve them, you mean?”
Cole raised his hands up in front of him. “Whoa. I didn’t say or imply that. And your doctor said we’re not to go down that road,” he reminded his father.
Jed groaned, laying his head back against the pillow. “Sorry. Old habits.”
Sorry?! What alien had invaded his father’s brain?
“They raised a good daughter,” Jed continued before Cole could reply.
“Can’t argue with that,” Cole said, not surprised Erin was the one thing they agreed on.
“Son,” Jed said, suddenly, meeting Cole’s gaze with a hard stare of his own.
Cole drew a deep breath. “What’s up?” With serious heart surgery looming, Jed could say anything at this point and Cole wouldn’t be surprised.
“Don’t let the one good thing in your life slip through your fingers the way I did,” Jed said.
Except that, Cole thought. The old man had taken him off guard. “Dad—”
“No. I don’t want to have any serious discussions. We’re just going to argue. That’s been our way too long for it to change in the blink of an eye.”
Which made Cole wonder if Jed meant he wanted it to change . . . eventually.
Jed reached for the paper cup filled with water and took a long sip. “But remember what I said. Just in case.”
Cole exhaled a hard breath. No need to ask just in case what. “You’re going to be fine,” he told his father. He opted to focus on his father and not his obvious allusion to Jed’s mother . . . or to Erin.
Jed didn’t reply. He yawned, though, and Cole took that as his cue. “Get some sleep. I’ll be here when you come out of surgery, and I’ll see you as soon as they let me.”
His father nodded, and an awkward silence ensued, no doubt thanks to the strain of their having been forced to get along for the last couple of minutes. But Cole had to admit, despite the discomfort between them, it’d been nice talking to Jed, knowing no yelling was forthcoming.
He left the room, and for the first time he could recall, he prayed—both for Jed to come through surgery and for the chance to rebuild some kind of connection with his father.