Chapter 6 #2
"Forty-five seconds," Dad says, laughing to himself. "I timed it. Anna stood on the dock with her arms crossed and said, 'Will, I told you to double the sealant,' and I said, 'Anna, the sealant was fine,' and she said, 'The sealant is at the bottom of the harbor, Will.'"
He even does the different voices. I lean against the doorframe and let myself smile. It had been exactly as dramatic as described.
Lily laughs, small and watery and broken, but happy. Dad watches her like she's given him something worth more than a working leg. He's going to end up adopting her like a lost puppy, which is the last thing I need.
I come in, set one water bottle on her side and one on Dad's, then sit in the chair on the other side of the bed across from her, Dad between us like a referee.
Her gaze finally reaches mine.
"Thank you."
Then she leans toward me, hand cupped at her mouth, glances at Dad, and whispers very loudly: "I love your dad."
I snort a laugh before I can stop myself and shake my head at her. She's funny. A natural flirt, to my great dismay.
Dad laughs out loud, delighted, and squeezes her hand. "See?" He grins at me with the smuggest expression. "Still got it."
Lily presses her free hand against his arm like she's trying to physically push the smugness out of him. "Shush. You're injured. Be humble."
"Met her barely an hour ago and she's already telling me what to do." Dad's delight deepens into the look he gets when he's decided something. "I like this one, Cal."
"Yeah, Dad," I say flatly. "I can see that."
Lily's eyes find mine across the bed. The corner of her mouth tips up like she knows I'm pretending and won't make it easy for me.
I lean back in my chair, trying hard not to return that little smirk. I like her too much when she's like this. Watching me like she's waiting to see how long I can keep lying to myself.
I look away first. Like I always do.
The doctor comes and explains the procedure in that calm, precise way. Clean fracture of the tibia, surgical pin required, surgery in an hour, standard stuff, good prognosis, walking with a cane within weeks.
Lily asks questions about recovery time and aftercare, and the doctor answers her like she's family because she told them she was, because she's been acting like she is. When the doctor leaves, Lily finally lets go of Dad's hand.
"You should go home," Dad says, settling back against the pillow. "Get some rest. I'm not going anywhere."
"I don't want to leave."
"I know. But Cal's here now. And you need to eat something and put on clean clothes and stop looking at me like I'm dying, because I'm not dying, I just have a broken leg and a very good story to tell people."
She smiles, stands, and presses her hand against Dad's arm one more time.
"I'm coming back tomorrow."
"Good." Dad settles back, looking satisfied. Then, casual as anything, like he's asking someone to pass the salt: "Cal, get her number so you can text her the address of the house. She'll need it for when I'm home. For visiting."
My eyes shoot to hers. And for the first time since I've known her, she's not the composed, unshakeable girl who held eye contact like a weapon and watched me squirm for sport.
Her lips part, and her cheeks go a shade deeper. She stares at me with an expression that mirrors exactly what I'm feeling. Pure, undiluted horror.
Of all the embarrassing things this man has done over twenty-nine years, and there have been many, this is the crowning achievement.
"Dad…"
"What? She needs the address. You have a phone. This is logistics, son."
It is not logistics and he knows it is not logistics. The look on his face is innocent, open, and absolutely full of shit. He knows exactly what he's doing and he's enjoying every second.
I pull out my phone. Lily pulls out hers. We don't look at each other once. We conduct the entire exchange like two people defusing a bomb, reading numbers mechanically while Dad watches from his pillow like a man who just won the lottery.
"Great," he says, settling back with a satisfied sigh. "Now she has your number and you have hers. For logistics."
"For logistics," Lily repeats.
"Purely practical."
"Shut up, Dad."
I pretend to look at my phone as she gathers her things and says goodbye to him, promising to visit tomorrow. At my house. I track her footsteps without looking up. I know exactly where she is at all times.
She pauses in the doorway.
"See you tomorrow, Callahan."
Motherfucker. The flinch hits before I can stop it, same as every time she says my full name, that same zap straight through me just like the first time we met.
"See ya, Lily." Casual. A nod. Like an absolute idiot.
She leaves and I listen to her footsteps recede down the hallway until I can't hear them anymore.
"She's a good kid, that one."
I pick up my water bottle and unscrew the cap, taking a long drink before screwing it back on like the task requires my full attention.
"Yeah. I guess."
The smile stays on his face long after he's dozed off. I sit in the chair and watch him. He needs to rest until surgery. I need to call the chief and ask for leave. And I need to figure out what the hell I'm going to do about tomorrow.