27. David
27
David
S itting next to Pops for so many hours for so many days listening to those monitors beep must have done something to my brain.
That’s the only explanation I could come up with for the fact I was searching insect protein as food on my laptop’s browser.
I’d finally smartened up and realized the hospital had free WiFi and that I could get at least some work done while there.
A thousand emails loomed in my inbox and here I was looking up studies about using bugs for food.
Yup. It was official. I’d lost it.
Meanwhile, John had been right. The concept was as fascinating as it was disgusting.
Maybe the human race of the future would be okay with eating bugs, but I wasn’t. But the studies about using insect protein for animal feed were particularly interesting.
I’d picked up for Rowdy and Drew’s girls a big bag of mealworms right before I’d left, as a treat. So it wasn’t completely a foreign concept.
What was interesting was the idea of replacing all animal protein currently used in pet food with insect protein.
I’d joked with Heather about vegan pet food after she’d called me a chicken murderer and here I was looking at research proving it was possible to make healthy nutritious pet food without meat.
Heather would be happy to hear it—if she ever spoke to me again.
“What’s wrong?”
I glanced up from my laptop to see my sister watching me. “Who said anything was wrong?”
Amy cocked up a brow. “That big old sigh of yours did.”
I drew in a breath. She’d known me for too long for me to lie to her. “I fucked up.”
Normally she’d say something snarky, such as what else is new . That she didn’t proved I must look as miserable as I felt.
I continued, “There’s this girl . . .”
Her eyes widened. “A girl?”
“Don’t look so shocked. I have dated on occasion, you know.”
“Yes. But you never talked to me about them, or looked like your favorite dog just died, all over a girl.”
I lifted one shoulder. “This one is different.”
She put her book down and leaned forward. “Do tell.”
So I did. I told her everything.
Well, almost everything.
I wasn’t about to tell her the sex was killer. But I told Amy everything else. From our debate about fuel-efficient vehicles at the gas station, to the rooster rescue at the shelter. The reality show filming at Drew’s and the dancing at the bar. And the video . . .
“She made that?” Amy asked.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“Wow. It was pretty amazing.”
“ She’s pretty amazing,” I agreed.
“So how’d you mess things up?”
I snorted out a laugh. “Let’s see. First I left my charger at Drew’s so that whole day went by without me calling or texting her. Then when I finally got home and to a charger, I got the messages about Pops and came right here. I was so distracted and exhausted, and worried about Mom and Pops that I never called her. . . and then she called me.”
Amy’s eyes opened wider. “And I answered.”
Pressing my lips together, I nodded. “She won’t take my calls or respond to my texts. I can only guess she thinks I wasn’t in touch because I was running around on her with another woman.”
“Oh my God, David. I’m so sorry.”
I lifted one shoulder. “You couldn’t know. And it’s my own damn fault for not at least texting her as soon as I got here. My ass was in this chair for so many hours I could have. I had plenty of time.”
“She’ll understand once you explain. And if she doesn’t understand, she’s not the one for you.”
I nodded. “I know, but that’s the problem. If she’s not reading my texts or listening to my voicemails, how can I explain?”
“You go and make her listen.”
“I can’t. I can’t leave Mom or Pops. Not now.”
“David Milton Strickland, don’t you dare use me or your father as an excuse to not do what’s right.”
I turned to see my mother in the doorway, hands on her hips and her sternest expression firmly in place.
Amy leaned closer. “She used your full name. She’s serious.”
“Yes, I am.” Mom nodded.
I laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m not leaving?—”
“Yes, you are. Today.” She moved closer. “The doctor said he believes your father isn’t going to get any worse, but he’s also not sure when he’ll get better. Sitting here is not going to make that happen any sooner. And besides, I want grandchildren.”
“I gave you a grandchild.” My sister frowned.
“I want more.” She kept me pinned beneath a glare that only a mother could deliver.
I could see there was no fighting this. “All right. I’ll go home and pack a bag.”
She nodded, finally looking satisfied. “Good. And I already packed you a lunch.” She thrust a brown paper bag at me.
Smiling and feeling lighter than I had all week, I said, “That’s great, Mom. Thanks.”