Читать книгу Single Dad To The Rescue - Cari Lynn Webb - Страница 14
ОглавлениеDAN SAWYER STOOD in line at Zig Zag Coffee House waiting to pay for his order and stared at the name flashing across his phone screen: Valerie.
His stomach hardened and his jaw clenched as if he was preparing to absorb the abrupt attack of an assailant. He’d accept every shot, especially from Valerie, if that protected his son.
His ex-wife had decided six years ago that traveling the world was more of a priority than her marriage and her four-year-old son. Her last video-chat attempt with Ben had been after the New Year—almost eight months ago. Even that had been cut short after a poor connection interrupted the call too many times.
Valerie’s current call dropped into the missed-call list like so many things she’d missed in Ben’s life: his first day of kindergarten, his first soccer goal, his first time riding a big-kid bike. Visits from the tooth fairy, the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus. Every year brought something new to celebrate and something unknown to guard against. Mismanaging Ben’s juvenile diabetes wasn’t an option.
Ben and Dan had worked too hard to overcome the obstacles of Ben’s autoimmune disease. Ben was in a good place. A healthy place.
Nothing, and no one, would disrupt that.
“Stare at your phone any harder, you’ll miss the world going on around you.” The all too familiar gruff voice and laughter-wrapped scold ended Dan’s stalemate with his phone, as if he’d been ordered to stand down.
“Dad.” Dan glanced at the older man, who matched him inch for inch. Those knots loosened inside him. “What are you doing here?”
“Ben is fine. Numbers were perfect this morning and he even tested himself.” His father put a hand on Dan’s shoulder and squeezed. “Dropped Ben off at school with his book report and completed poster board just a little while ago.”
That still didn’t explain his father’s unexpected arrival. His dad always claimed he preferred his own home-brewed coffee to the fancy, overpriced coffee houses in the city.
“It’s Tuesday.” His dad waved his hand around the trendy coffee house. “You always stop here before you drive Ava to her classes.”
Every Tuesday for the past six months, Dan left work, picked up his best friend, Ava, and dropped her off at school. It’d started by accident. Ava had called for a ride after her fiancé’s car broke down while Kyle was on the East Coast. They’d just carried on after that. The perfect time for the two longtime friends to catch up. Most recently the drive had been paired with party planning for their friends’ joint bachelor-and-bachelorette party, an event that Dan had convinced Ava they should put together as members of the wedding party.
But his father never came with Dan on Tuesday mornings. Or visited this particular coffee house. Not once in the past four years since he’d been living with Dan and Ben. Dan scanned his father, from his deep red hair to his weathered face and worn work boots. “Are you okay?”
“Never better.” His dad sipped his coffee, which looked suspiciously similar to a white-chocolate mocha with extra whipped cream. “I brought home an evacuee late last night. Nice lady with a kind heart.”
That news could’ve been delivered via text. Dan searched his dad’s face, eyeing his neck as if Dan could read his father’s pulse. His dad stirred the whipped cream into his coffee with a wooden stirrer as if he wanted to design a picture in the liquid. “Thought you might want to know that she has pets.”
“Pets,” Dan repeated. “As in plural.”
His dad nodded.
That was definitely bad news. The type of news that could disrupt things at their house.
Dan had told Ben that he was allergic to animals to keep from having to get a pet. He’d started the white lie the year after Valerie had left. Dan had been afraid a pet would be too much for them; there was enough for him and Ben to get used to without adding the responsibility of a pet. After all, Ben’s illness wasn’t the flu or an appendix surgery that he’d recover from. Juvenile diabetes was an autoimmune disease that Ben would deal with his entire life. It required strict management every day. Thanks to help from Dan’s parents and Valerie’s mom, Dan had gotten Ben’s juvenile diabetes under control and adjusted to his role as single parent. One year later, his mom had died suddenly, his dad had moved in and Dan’s world had shifted again. Then Ben had started school and the truth about Dan not really being allergic to animals never came out.
But it wasn’t a big lie. Valerie had lied in her wedding vows: promising to love Dan until death did them part. Dan’s phone vibrated. Once again Valerie’s name claimed the caller ID.
“Our tenant has three pets to be exact. Shelters were full. Hotels, too. Couldn’t leave Brooke alone to fend for herself.” Rick settled his shrewd gaze on Dan and shook his head. “That’s not the Sawyer way.”
No. The Sawyer way was to always help. Even if it meant letting go. Like Dan had done with Valerie.
Their marriage had ended over couriered paperwork, stamped with international postage, and no disputes. Dan had gained legal and physical custody of Ben. Valerie had gained her freedom.
Despite their obvious personality differences, Dan had always believed they’d both agreed on parenting styles. How wrong he’d been.
Dan had stepped in to fill both parental roles. Valerie had stepped out and never looked back. Even with Valerie’s capricious nature, he hadn’t expected that. His young son had lost his mother. That wasn’t a wound that healed easily.
Now Valerie was blowing up his phone. And his father had invited a woman with pets into their rental apartment. The distractions were compounding. No problem. Dan just had to keep focused on their routine—the one he’d established to keep Ben healthy and safe.
Someone called Dan’s name from behind the pickup counter. Dan stepped up to the cashier. Shelby, with her heavily outlined cat-green eyes and even brighter purple hair, said, “Your order is already paid for.”
Dan gaped. That wasn’t part of the usual routine. The entire staff knew his order by heart. He never had to wait long—that was routine. “It can’t be. I haven’t paid yet.”
“Another customer covered it and told me to tell you thanks for all that you do for the community.” The jeweled earring in Shelby’s eyebrow twitched, as if she was daring him to challenge that people in the world could be kind.
Dan glanced around the coffee shop, searching for the Good Samaritan. No one stepped forward. Dan shoved his phone into the pocket of his cargo pants and walked to the pickup counter.
If he believed in signs from the universe like Ava did, he’d look at the customer’s kindness as the good to balance the bad. Because—let’s face it—everything is off this morning.
His dad waited near the door, enthused about the evacuee from the fires. While second thoughts shifted through Dan. He hadn’t rented out the in-law unit since his divorce, preferring to keep things as simple as possible, especially for Ben.
Dan silently thanked the stranger for the gesture. Stuffed the money he would’ve used to pay for his order along with a tip into the tip jar and grabbed his to-go order.
His dad held the door open. “Perhaps you’ll discover a new appreciation for pets with our tenant.”
That wasn’t ever going to happen. Dan had nothing against dogs. In another life, he’d pictured his home with several kids, two dogs and a wife. That wasn’t his world now and that picture had been distorted years ago. Dan’s world now was his work, volunteering and his son.
Besides, he wasn’t about to do anything that might ruin what he already had. His life was good. He was content. Ben was happy. That was enough, wasn’t it? “I don’t think she’ll be with us that long.”
“There’s a fire raging in the mountains, son.” Rick settled a baseball cap on his head and studied the sky. “It was only twenty-five percent contained this morning.” That could delay her return.
“Pick up groceries on your way home.”
“I went to the store two days ago.” Dan pulled his truck keys from his pocket.
“Not for us,” his dad said. “For Brooke. Our tenant.”
Dan stopped on the sidewalk and faced his dad. “You want me to buy her food?”
“I’m heading back up north.” Rick twisted a plastic lid over his coffee cup. “They need help transporting supplies to the shelters.”
And his father expected Dan to help their new tenant. After all, that was the Sawyer way.
He could argue that he’d forgotten to order syringes last week and had to pick those up within the hour. Mention the planning meeting he’d promised to attend for the school’s Fall Festival. And detail every other ball he juggled to keep the Sawyer family moving forward. It wouldn’t matter.
His dad knew Dan would buy groceries. And Dan knew it, too.
He ordered his dad to be safe, climbed into his truck and rearranged his schedule for a quick stop at the grocery store.
Ten minutes later, Ava climbed into the truck. She dumped her backpack with a thud and grasped the extra tall tea from the drink holder like it was a divine gift. “What is a sign associated with meningitis—Homans’s sign, Kernig’s sign or Tinel’s sign?”
“Kernig’s sign. If the leg can’t be straightened, it’s a positive sign for meningitis. Homan’s is deep-vein thrombosis and Tinel’s is carpal tunnel syndrome.” Dan tapped his coffee cup against hers. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“You should be in physician’s assistant school with me.” Ava sipped her tea. “I could use your brain.”
“You mean you could copy off me.” Dan pulled away from the curb and merged with the traffic.
“It’s wrong to copy.” Ava glanced in the back seat as if making sure Ben wasn’t there. “But I would use your notes. You write much neater than me.”
“You say that like it’s bad.” Dan clicked on his blinker to change lanes. That should mute the vibration of his phone on the console and his urge to make sure it wasn’t Valerie calling him again.
“Speaking of bad things, did you hear about Hank?” Ava asked.
“Kevin told me that Hank got sick last night.” Dan’s supervisor, Kevin McCoy, had called him on his way into work to let Dan know he was one of the senior guys on shift for the night.
“Sick is putting it mildly,” Ava said. “Denise texted me. Hank is having triple-bypass surgery this morning. He’s only forty-four.”
Hank Decker was also a career paramedic and one of Dan’s longtime coworkers. Dan stopped at a red light and looked at Ava. “Are you serious?”
“Wish I wasn’t.” Ava tapped her fingers against her cup. “What did you eat last night in the rig?”
“What does that have to do with Hank?” Dan scowled at the traffic around him.
“Come on, Dan. You and I both know the statistics of our work too well,” Ava said. “You have to take better care of yourself. You don’t want to become another statistic.”
Dan focused on the car in front of him. Ava had to transition from her paramedic work into something less stressful. Between her military-medic background and working as a paramedic in the city, she’d pushed the limit on her stress boundaries. But Dan didn’t have that kind of stress. Sure, his plate was full, but whose plate wasn’t?
“If you aren’t going to do something for yourself, then do it for Ben,” Ava urged.
“Fine. You’re right.” Ben was his everything. His son was his world. And his best friend wasn’t wrong. “I could stand to eat a few less french fries and add a few more days at the gym every week. That sound good?”
“It’s a start,” Ava said.
“Now, can we talk about coordinating the bachelor-and-bachelorette celebrations?” And move away from Dan’s health and his fast track to becoming another statistic.
Dan gripped the steering wheel. Had his supervisor known about the seriousness of Hank’s condition last night? Was that why Kevin had ended the call with the comment about an assistant director position opening within the next month? Adding that he considered Dan a natural fit, as if Kevin feared Dan might be next on the statistic train. Would he?
Dan took a large sip of his coffee, determined to slip in an hour at the gym later that afternoon. “I think we should stick with our original idea. Call the whole thing a coed bash and have one big party.”
Surely talking about wedding plans with his best friend would get the day back on track. Back to normal. And distract him from his phone. The one that buzzed again on the console. Dan rushed on, covering the sound, “About the wedding schedule.”
“You’re quite popular this morning. Something I should know?” Ava grabbed his phone and held it out of his reach. Her gaze settled on Dan like the fog over the bay: heavy and dense. “You met someone.”
“When?” Dan shook his head. “Last night between the heart attack and the preterm labor patient?”
“You have less than four weeks until the wedding. You need a date, or you’ll be at the singles’ setup table,” Ava warned, as if he wasn’t paying close enough attention. “Do you want that?”
He wanted his day to return to normal. He wanted Valerie to stop calling. He wanted to grab his phone from Ava. “Who’s at the singles’ table?”
“Women who want to date you.” Ava’s smile lifted her eyebrows and lightened her tone. “Especially Marlene Henderson. You remember Marlene, right? Wyatt’s mom introduced you guys during her garden party in the spring. Marlene is the master gardener at the botanical garden.”
And excessively gabby. Dan cringed. He’d never met anyone capable of putting so many words into one breath so continuously without hyperventilating. Dan had taken several deep breaths for the poor woman. Fortunately, a dear friend of Wyatt’s mom had a plant question and Dan had handed off Marlene, then escaped. Surely there was another guest on the wedding-invite list prepared and eager to match Marlene word for word. It just wasn’t Dan.
His phone chimed. He winced and concentrated on the road. He was setting his phone on permanent silence as soon as he got it back.
“Seriously, what is with your phone? You never get so many calls.” Ava crammed the party-planner binder back into her backpack. “We’ll deal with party planning later. What aren’t you telling me?”
Ava’s insight was all too clear. One of the pitfalls of having a best friend trained to read people and their actions. Dan pulled into a parking space outside San Francisco College of Medicine and turned toward Ava.
She jumped in first. “Everything okay with Ben? Your dad?”
The concern in Ava’s voice broke through Dan’s jumbled thoughts. Ava cared for his family. Her interest was real and genuine. He’d always appreciated that about her. “Dad is fine. He’s opened the mother-in-law apartment to a fire evacuee.”
“That’s wonderful and...” Ava’s words drifted off as if she sensed there was more.
He supposed she could read him well enough to know there was more. They’d worked in tandem too many nights on call in the ambulance not to be able to figure out each other.
“There’s more,” Dan admitted. He pushed Ava’s hand toward her. “Put the phone on speaker and press Play on the voice mail.”
Ava glanced at the phone screen. Shock slowed her words. “Valerie called six times. Valerie, as in your ex-wife, Valerie. The ex-wife who is now with your younger brother.”
Dan’s heartbeat stalled as if that assailant connected with a knockout punch after all. Five years ago, Dan had been pretzeled on his son’s hospital bed, Ben finally asleep on his chest. He’d been adjusting Ben’s IV lines and scolding himself for his misstep in caring for his sick son. The flu had played havoc with Ben’s glucose levels; the vomiting had only compounded things. Ben had been admitted to the hospital for the fourth time that year. And Dan had feared he’d never get it right.
Then the text from Valerie had arrived. Not a checking-on-her-sick-son text. But rather a picture of Valerie with her arms wrapped around Dan’s younger brother, her lips pressed against Jason’s cheek. The caption—Monte Carlo brought us together—in bold print underneath. Valerie had followed that with a quick explanation: There wasn’t an easy way to tell you. But we both want each other to be happy, right?
Dan had dropped the phone on the floor and curled his arms around his young son. Determined to focus on his true family and guard those he loved from harm.
Years later and he’d kept his promise. He’d gotten over his ex-wife. But he wasn’t as numb to his brother’s betrayal as he wanted to be.
Dan finally dipped his chin, the motion stiff, his voice flat. “That’s her.”
“What does she want?” Suspicion laced Ava’s tone.
“Play the voice mail and we can find out.” Unease twisted through his stomach again.
Valerie’s lyrical voice with her upbeat excitement, like she had a really great secret to share filled the truck. “Bon journo, Dan. Call me back, please. Maybe not now. My connection isn’t the best. But call me. Ciao.”
“You can delete it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?” Ava checked the time and swore under her breath. “I have to go to class.”
“I don’t want it to be a big deal.”
He had no idea what Valerie wanted. He only knew he had to protect Ben from getting hurt by her again. This time Ben was old enough to feel his heart breaking if his mother let him down again.
“It already is.” Ava tossed the phone at Dan. “You have to call Valerie back. See what she wants.”
Dan gripped the phone. “You have to get to class.”
“I know. I know. Text me as soon as you talk to Valerie. Otherwise, I won’t be able to concentrate in neurology.” Ava opened her door, climbed out of the truck and leaned back inside. “You’re still good with everyone coming over Friday night, right?”
“Definitely.” Several phone calls from his ex-wife and a new tenant were not going to alter his life or change his schedule. “I’m making chicken and waffles, so let everyone know to come hungry.”
Ava pointed at his phone. “Call her.”
The truck door slammed shut. Dan stuffed his phone in the empty drink holder and backed out of the parking space.
Call Valerie?
Not on his life.