50. Lance
fifty
Lance
Present
Tears cloud my vision as I stare at my father lying in the hospital bed.
I wish my mom had prepared me better before I arrived. Not only did he break his leg when he fell, but on impact he also hit his head on the concrete and has some swelling on his brain.
The doctors say he’s stable but are concerned because he has been unconscious since yesterday when the paramedics brought him in.
They warned us that if the swelling doesn’t go down and he doesn’t wake up, they will need to intervene.
Which means surgery to relieve some of the pressure in his brain.
My dad, Kenneth Taylor, is a big man—six-five and broad-shouldered. Strong and straightforward. He looks nothing like that now. The hospital bed dwarfs his size, making him appear small and weak. His face is swollen, and there are so many tubes and wires attached to his body.
Fuck.
I reach out and place my hand on his leathery one as regret and shame sit like hot and sour liquid in my stomach.
My relationship with my father broke when I went to college, and I haven’t spoken to him in years. I hate to think the last words I ever said to him were said out of anger.
What kills me most is that I might never get a chance to talk to him again.
“Dad, it’s me, Lance. I know you probably don’t want to see me, but I really need you to wake up,” I whisper, my voice scratchy from disuse. Desperation seeps into each syllable.
It’s just him and me in the room.
After I promised not to leave my dad alone under any circumstances, my mom agreed to go home to take a shower and eat some breakfast. We had been up all night, but I could tell she was exhausted.
When I arrived, Mom jumped from her seat, tears streaming down her cheeks, and wrapped me in a hug, breaking into sobs in my arms. I hate that she was at the hospital alone, while my grandmother stayed behind to close the flower shop.
It’s my fault she didn’t call sooner. Mom has been bugging me for ages to speak to my father and bury the hatchet. Turns out, I’m as stubborn as my father.
“You can’t leave Mom all alone. And you sure as hell can’t leave without talking to me.” I sigh, watching the monitors for any sign that he’s listening.
Nothing. No movement. Just the sound of the heart monitor.
“I know you hate me for not following in yours and Arthur’s footsteps, but I just couldn’t do it.
I didn’t want that life. I wanted to carve my own path.
All I ever wanted was for you to be proud of me.
I’m so fucking sorry, Pop. I never meant to disappoint you.
But you can’t leave me. Not until we work this out.
We’ve already lost so much time. I got married a few months ago, and I didn’t even call to tell you and Mom.
I don’t want that anymore. I want you to be there.
” My head falls, chin to chest, as my tears break free and fall down my cheeks.
The beeps and hums of the machines monitoring my dad continue to beep and hum as I quietly cry.
A throaty groan catches my attention.
“Dad?” I sniff, wiping the tears from my eyes as I stand, hovering over his resting form.
My hopes sink as he lies motionless in the bed.
Then his eyelids twitch.
“Dad, can you hear me?”
He squints, adjusting to the light, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Lancelot?”
Relief floods my system at the sound of his voice. “Yeah, it’s me, Pop.”
He coughs, body wracking from the action. “Fuck.” He moans in pain, reaching for his head. The IV tugs at the back of his hand. “What the hell?”
I lay my hand on his forearm. “Relax, you’re in the hospital. You need to stay still.”
“I am? What happened?” He closes his eyes, trying to decipher yesterday’s events.
“You fell off the roof. You’ve been out for”—I look at my phone—“almost twenty-four hours. You have a nasty concussion and a broken leg.”
“Makes sense. Feels like I got run over by a Mack truck,” Dad grumbles, making me chuckle. He groans again, trying to sit up to look at his cast leg.
“Let me.” I hit the button on the rails, lifting his bed up.
“Where’s your mother?”
“She went to shower and get breakfast. She should be back any minute.” I step back, giving him some space.
“Good.” He turns his head slightly to look at me, and his blue eyes—the same color as mine—pin me to my spot. “I am proud of you, Son.”
“You heard me?”
“Of course, I heard you blubbering over me like I was dead.”
“I wasn’t blubbering.”
He arches a brow. “You were a little.”
Same old Dad. Not wanting to talk feelings, but I’ll take it. I’d rather hear him grumbling than not hear him at all.
I roll my eyes. “Well, you weren’t waking up, so I thought you were dead.”
“Touché.” He sucks in a breath and exhales, cheeks puffing. “Listen, kid. I know I’ve been a real jackass. And I’m sorry.”
“What?” I ask, shocked at his admission.
The steady beep of the heart monitor fills the room. Dad stares at the ceiling and sighs as I stare at him, slightly dumbfounded.
He breaks the stuffy silence. “I said I’m sorry. Cutting you out like I did was dumb, and I hope you can forgive me.”
Growing up, my father was never one to talk to us boys about his feelings, so this is a big change. Hearing him admit he was wrong? It’s everything I’ve always wanted.
I could never really be mad at him. He’s my dad, and I love him. Kenneth Taylor was a wonderful father when I was a child. He was at every baseball game and school event. Sure, he was more of a “suck it up and do it” kind of dad, but he was there.
“I forgive you, Pop. And I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said the things I did the last time we spoke.”
He waves me off, using his untaped hand. “Do not apologize. I was being an asshole. I didn’t listen to you. I let my anger and grief take over after we lost Arthur. Never really dealt with his death. Just shoved it down. Then you announced going into baseball, and I just shut down.”
“I miss him too, you know.”
“I know you do. You idolized him when you were little. When you didn’t follow him into the army, it felt like you were giving up on him. I know that thinking makes no sense,” he says, shaking his head.
“I never gave up, Pop. I just wanted something different.”
“I know. And you’ve done great things while wearing his number. Arthur would be proud of you.”
“You think so?” My voice cracks as I think about my big brother. His larger-than-life personality and toothy smile.
“Know so. He loved you, Lance.” My father’s words are strangled, and his eyes glaze over from unshed tears. “And so do I. You think we can forget about the past and start over?”
“I’d really like that.”
“Good. Because I have a bone to pick with you. Last week, I watched you get caught chasing a high fastball. What were you thinking? I taught you better than that. No high balls.”
Memories of Dad yelling at me to “lay off the high ones” from behind the backstop at the little league field float to the surface.
I bark a laugh. “I’ll try to remember that next time.”
“Good. Now tell me about this girl of yours.”
A smile tugs at my face at the mention of my girl. My woman. “Her name’s Gwen, and she’s amazing. Smart as a whip, kind, and so damn beautiful. Doesn’t put up with my shit and keeps me in line.”
“I like her already. She sounds just like your mother.” Dad grins, and it’s the first time I’ve seen him smile in years.
“She is.” I chuckle.
“Boss’s daughter, huh?” He wiggles his brows at me as I stare at him in shock, my jaw hanging open. My dad chuckles. “Surprised to know I keep tabs on you?”
He knows about me?
“A little. Are you mad?” For some reason, I’m nervous to hear his answer.
“About you getting married and not telling us?”
I nod.
He shrugs. “Your life, Lancelot. If you’re happy, then that’s all that matters.”
“I’m extremely happy.”
“That’s good, Son.”
The door to the hospital room opens with a creak, and my mom quietly steps inside. Her eyes widen as she sees my father sitting up and awake in bed.
“Kenny, you’re awake,” she screeches, running to his bedside and smothering his face in kisses. “You had me so scared.”
“I’m sorry, Holly Berry,” he mumbles, wrapping his hand around her wrist.
Kenny and Holly Berry? This is the first time I’ve ever heard them use nicknames, and I have to admit, it’s grossly cute. As I watch my parents, I wonder if that’s how Gwen and I will look together in thirty years.
The squeak of a sneaker on the tile from behind catches my attention. I turn my head away from my mushy parents to find the best surprise.
As if I conjured her out of thin air.
“Gwen?”
She stands nervously by the door, her hands clasped and twisting in anxiety. Her aqua eyes are blue with worry as she stares back at me. “Hey.”
I rush her, pulling her into my arms and holding her tight. “Are you really here?”
Her lithe arms circle my shoulders. “I’m here.”
I push her back to gaze into her eyes, letting the relief of seeing them wash over me in contentment. “When did you get here?”
“Just a bit ago.” Gwen glances over my shoulder at my parents. “I should have called first. I’m sorry for intruding. I—”
I lean in and kiss her, effectively shutting her up. It takes every ounce of self-control not to maul her in front of my parents. “You are not intruding. I want you here. I’m so fucking happy to see you.”
Her sweet, flowery scent fills my nose, and I breathe it in.
“Language,” my mother interjects. The woman has dog ears. Can hear a pin drop a mile away.
“Sorry, Ma,” I toss over my shoulder as Gwen bites her bottom lip, holding back her brilliant smile.
“She doesn’t know what a filthy mouth you have, does she?” my wife whispers.
“No, and you like my filthy mouth.”
“I do.” Her cheeks turn a deeper shade of pink, and her aqua eyes sparkle.
The tension in my shoulders releases as I stare at her beautiful face. She came for me.
I kiss her forehead, hugging her again, afraid she’s a mirage from my sleep-deprived brain. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
“Really?”
I tuck that stray curl that always falls loose from her ponytail behind her ear. “Really. I want you with me wherever I go. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you to come sooner.”
“It’s okay. You needed time with just your family. Is everything”—she glances at them sitting on the bed talking—“better?”
Gwen is the only person, aside from Cam, who knows about my family, my strained relationship with my father, and losing my brother. From the start, she understood. Got me better than anyone I had ever met.
“Yeah. It is. Everything’s going to be alright.” I smile, lacing my fingers through Gwen’s.
On the verge of crying, her eyes shine. “That makes me so happy.”
For the first time in a very long time, I feel at peace with everything. Hearing my dad apologize healed a lot of the damage our rift caused. Hopefully, in time, the wounds will heal completely.
“Ready to meet the parents?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be. Besides, it can’t go worse than my dad yelling at you in front of the entire team,” she jokes.
I drop my head back and laugh. “Definitely can’t get worse than that.”
Hand in hand, I lead her toward my parents. My mom sits on the bed with my father, their hands intertwined, heads together in conversation.
“Mom. Pop,” I interrupt. They turn to me with grins on their faces. “This is Gwen. Gwen, this is my mom, Holly, and my dad, Kenneth.”
My wife blushes as she raises her hand and waves. “Hi. It’s a pleasure to meet you both. Lance has told me so much about you.”
“Welcome to the family, Gwen.” My mom slips off the bed and wraps my wife in a warm hug. “We’re so happy to meet you, sweetheart.”
“Nice to meet you, Gwen.” My dad turns to me and whistles. “You’re right, Son, she’s a looker. You better take care of her.”
A gruff laugh bubbles out of me at Dad’s joke.
“Kenneth,” my mom chides.
“Sorry, Holly Berry.” He flashes her a lopsided grin and a wink I hope never to see again.
“What am I going to do with you?” she asks, shaking her head.
“You can start by bringing me a burger, then getting me the hell out of this damn hospital,” Dad retorts, making us all laugh.
“Only when the doctor clears you. And as long as you promise never to get on the roof again.”
“Guess I’ll be starving.” Dad grunts, then turns to Gwen. “What say you, Daughter-in-law? Care to help an old man out?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Gwen giggles at my father’s charm. It’s been years since I’ve seen this side of my dad.
“Looker and a keeper. You really scored with this one, Lancelot,” my dad teases.
Gwen locks eyes with me, and a jolt of energy rushes through me at the sight of her aqua gemstones.
“I did.”
And I’m never letting her go.
I take a seat in the chair beside my father’s bed, pulling Gwen into my lap, kissing the crown of her head as we chat with my parents, giving them the abridged version of our story.
The doctor enters a short time later to check on my dad’s vitals. After a little prodding, the doctor sounds hopeful that my father will be able to return home the next day, pending no complications arise.
When I leave my parents, it’s with a promise to be back soon for a visit, and for the first time in years I look forward to it.
I hate it took my father falling off the roof to get us to talk, but I’m glad it happened. I’m able to walk out of the hospital without the weight of anger and regret on my shoulders, and with the hope of truly having all my family in my life.