Chapter 14 Shyanne #2
He shot me a sidelong glance. “I shouldn’t have to say that. You know why, and don’t make things weird for an old man.” He waved a hand at Jackson. “Sit, sit, I’ll add some food. We have plenty.”
“Oh, I really couldn’t impose,” Jackson said, giving Dad a gracious smile. “I’ve got a lot to do today, and I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“Nonsense,” Dad said. “Sit. You feed guests. That’s the proper way. Scrambled or fried eggs?”
Seeing there was no arguing without offending him, Jackson chuckled and pulled up a stool at the bar. “Over easy. Thank you. You’re too kind.”
Dad quickly fried up more food and plated it, sliding plates to Jackson and me.
Whenever Jackson wasn’t looking, he shot me another look.
At one point, he grinned and gave me a thumbs up.
I wanted to die of embarrassment, but also give him a big hug and a kiss.
He was being sweet and assuring when many fathers would be losing their shit.
I was twenty-nine, but I’d always be his baby.
He’d spent the last several years hoping I’d find someone to spend my life with.
As far as I knew, he’d never had anyone.
His parents had died just after he got out of high school, and he’d never found a wife.
The closest thing he’d found to a family had been my mother as his surrogate daughter.
Then she’d passed not long after I’d been born, and he’d thrown himself headlong into being a true father to me.
It made me sad that he’d put his entire life to the side to take care of two women he had no blood relation to.
It showed the kind of man he was, but it was also a bit tragic.
My whole life, I’d thought about how sweet and kind he was, and it hurt my heart to think of him having no one.
He must have felt the same thing, and that was probably why he tried so hard to make sure I had someone.
“This food is amazing, Mr. Tuyuc,” Jackson said, swiping a tortilla through his egg yolk.
“Bah,” he said, waving a hand at Jackson, “call me Mark, short for Marquel.”
“Well, Mark, thank you. I love this,” Jackson said.
Dad reached to the side of the stove and grabbed the folded walker he used to get around.
After unfolding it, he flipped down the plastic seat that converted it to a chair.
He eased himself down with a wince. I watched him warily, knowing how badly his knees and lower back must hurt after making the food, but I’d learned long ago not to point out his weaknesses, especially in front of a guest or stranger.
Jackson, unaware of my father’s pride, noticed his discomfort, and said, “Are you okay?”
Dad sighed in relief and smiled sadly. “A tip for you: don’t spend twenty-five years bent over an engine compartment. Also? Lift with your knees, not your back. I’ve had to learn those lessons the hard way.”
Jackson nodded. “Arthritis?”
“It’s pretty bad,” I said quietly.
“Indeed it is,” Dad said, rubbing his left knee as he scooped food into his mouth with his other hand. “Imagine broken glass in your joints. That’s about the extent of it.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Jackson said.
“Nothing to be sorry about,” he said, then reached across the island to take my hand. “It was worth it to do what I loved and to be able to give my girl everything she needed growing up.”
My heart lurched with guilt. I knew I shouldn’t feel that way, I should feel grateful, which I of course did, but I hated the thought that my father had ruined his body to provide for me.
“I respect that,” Jackson said. “I’m still sorry you’re in such a bad way.”
“I’ll be all right,” he said. “It’s honestly not too bad right now. I took my pill this morning. It’s why I was able to stand here and make you breakfast. I’ll tell you, I was hurting pretty bad last night when I got home, though.”
With that, the conversation petered out, and we ate in a surprisingly companionable silence for the next several minutes. The food really was good, and I could have gone for seconds, but instead, I stood and placed my dishes in the sink, then patted Dad on the shoulder.
“What are you going to do today?” I asked.
He took a sip of coffee. “I’m going to the Loteria club.”
“Is that this weekend?” I said. “I thought you went last weekend.”
“They’re doing an additional one. There’s a raffle for the winner. A steak dinner for two at The Charcoal House.” He lifted his hand to show the fingers crossed. “I’ve got a good feeling.”
I shot a glance outside at his old beat-up truck, and before I could stop myself, I said, “Why don’t you let me call the medi-bus company? They can give you a ride there and back?”
His smile faltered, and he glanced at Jackson before looking at me again.
“You know I hate riding on that thing,” he said, keeping his voice low.
Of course I knew that, but it didn’t change the fact that it was safer.
With his arthritis, I always worried about him driving alone.
If something happened and he needed to react fast, he might be too slow given the pain in his joints.
I had nightmares of him trying to swerve out of the way of a drunk driver, crying out in pain as his shoulder joints screamed in agony, and then getting obliterated on the road.
“It’s for invalids and old farts who can’t remember what day it is,” he went on. “I’ll be fine. I was fine last night, wasn’t I?”
“Yes, Dad, but that was only three blocks. The Loteria club is halfway across the city. It’s not worth a steak dinner if you get into an accident.”
“I will be fine,” he said. His tone was good-natured, but the look in his eyes told me the conversation was over, and he didn’t want to argue in front of our guest.
Sighing, I crossed my arms. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you. And if you win, you bet your ass I’m the one you’re taking for that steak dinner.”
He grinned and patted my arm. “Of course.”
Jackson stood and carried his plate to the sink.
“I want to thank you again for breakfast, Mark. It was great.”
“Thank you for taking care of my little girl,” Dad said.
Jackson and I shared a look, both of us remembering exactly how he’d taken care of me the night before. Dad’s face went ashen with embarrassment as he realized his mistake and what he’d accidentally insinuated.
“Uh…well…I didn’t mean—”
“And that’s enough of that conversation,” I said, taking Jackson’s hand and leading him to the front door. “Love you, Dad!” I shoved Jackson through the door.
“Love you, dear,” he called after us.
“Sweet fuck,” I muttered. “That last bit was awkward.”
Jackson smirked. “That wasn’t what he meant.”
“Well no, but it was still awkward.”
Jackson chuckled and pointed to the left. “Let’s head that way. I need to find a spot where I can shift.”
We walked in silence for a bit, heading for a collection of closed businesses to the north.
“I really liked your father,” Jackson said at last.
Unable to stop the smile from creeping onto my face, I gave a reluctant nod. “He’s pretty amazing, yeah. Except when he won’t listen to me,” I said, huffing in frustration.
“I take it his arthritis is pretty bad?”
“It’s getting worse. He needs multiple joint replacements, but even with insurance, the co-pays and stuff are too much. Plus, he’s still fairly young, but I don’t know anyone who’s had knees, hips, and shoulders replaced. Then there’s his back… Jesus, it sounds even worse when you say it out loud.”
We rounded a small building with a FOR SALE sign outside and went to the rear. It had once been a gas station that had transitioned to a shitty used car lot, before shutting down for good about five years prior.
“This looks good,” Jackson said, glancing around, inspecting for any spots people might be able to see from.
“Shit, hang on,” I said as I pulled out my phone.
“What’s wrong?”
“I sent you the garage door and security codes for the shop,” I said. “Kinda need those if you’re gonna go get the car.”
Jackson barked a laugh. “What would I do without you?”
“Well, you wouldn’t have done any of the stuff you did last night, that’s for sure,” I said.
“You do have a point, there,” he said, then leaned down and kissed me.
Each and every time our lips touched, lightning crackled at the back of my mind and butterflies wiggled in my stomach. God, he was a good kisser.
Pulling away, he glanced at the sky. “I guess I need to go.” As he turned, I noticed his face change. He winced as if sad or irritated and whispered something—not to me but himself. “I wish all the dragon healers weren’t gone. They could heal him in no time.”
“What did you just—”
Before the question was out of my mouth, Jackson shifted, transforming into a massive dragon, and I had to take a few steps back to give him room to maneuver. Within seconds of shifting, he leaped into the sky, his magical camouflage making him blend into the sky.
Standing there, I watched him go until I could no longer make out the blur that he’d become against the background.
“Dragon healers?” I muttered to myself. “What the hell are those?”
There was so much to learn still. This world I’d found myself thrown into became more mysterious by the day. I wondered if I’d ever know all the secrets.