34. Tanner
TANNER
Dad.
It takes me a full three seconds before my brain registers what it’s seeing as my phone vibrates on the table. Grabbing it, I swipe, accepting the call and putting it to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Tanner, it’s your father.”
“Hey, yeah, how are you? Is everything all right?”
I hate that I let the question slip, as if my father would only call me if there was some kind of emergency.
But isn’t that the truth? I can’t remember the last time we actually talked and that includes any time my mother would just hand him the phone and we’d have to make awkward conversation until she was satisfied and we could hang up.
“Your mother is in surgery.”
“What?” I bark, my heart suddenly in my throat as Sorren stares at me with concern and a hint of rage—the kind that when provoked could level a city.
Without knowing anything, my friend is ready to fight for me.
With me.
“She fell playing pickleball.” The casualness of his voice pisses me off. “Shattered something in her hip.” Pausing, he adds, “She wanted me to call you.”
Moving papers from the desk calendar, I mentally rearrange the week while simultaneously trying to do the same with my home obligations concerning Briggs and Deacon.
“I can take some time off and come stay and help. I could be there tonight. I just need to—”
“There’s no need to do that.”
“What?” Sure I didn’t hear him right, I freeze and will the pounding in my ears to quiet as I wait for him to speak.
“We don’t need you to come out here. Your mother just wanted me to tell you. You don’t need to interrupt your life for this.”
“It’s a major surgery that will require physical therapy and—”
“And I think it’s best if you let me handle it.”
Silence stretches between us as the chasm widens, the distance insurmountable as I try—and fail—to find the words.
“You don’t want me there.”
“I just think it’s best for all of us.”
“You would,” I manage, talking over him when he tries to protest. “Let me know when she’s out of surgery.”
Stabbing the end button with my finger, I wish, not for the first time, that I’d been on a landline that I could have slammed into the receiver. At least then there’d be a modicum of satisfaction at getting to hang up on my asshole father.
My chest aches at the realization that somehow between the end of my military career and now, I’ve completely lost sight of who my father is. He’s certainly not the man who raised me.
Or maybe he is and I just never noticed this side of him.
“Road trip?” Sorren asks, his thick arms crossed over his chest and his expression pissed. “I think if we grab Hank, Deacon, and Jude, they’d have a hard time getting us out of the hospital.”
“No.” The laugh that escapes is involuntary, like relieving the pressure from a boiling pot.
“I just…I just don’t get it. My mother is in the hospital having surgery and my father doesn’t want me there.
I’m their only kid, and I keep thinking he’ll come around but I can only do so much.
When do you just say fuck it, I’m better off? ”
“When you realize that you’ve built your own family here, one with matching shirts and nosy neighbors and dinners where half the town shows up. You do it when you’re ready and you do it on your terms, not theirs.”
It’s said with conviction and experience, and I remember when he stood in the parking lot of Vetted Paws and told his parents off. It was different but somehow it’s all still the same.
“It’s not just me I have to think about; it’s Briggs too. Do I deprive him of his grandparents? We don’t have a lot of blood relatives on my side as it is.”
“What is he really losing? They’re involved at the bare minimum. I think they’ve been here once in the four years since you moved to Tennessee. And at some point, Briggs will see how they’re hurting you and this”—he motions to me—“suffering will have been for nothing.”
“It fucking hurts.”
“Of course it does. You can’t change the way they are, but you can change how you receive them.”
“My therapist would be proud of that one.”
“I can lend you the book; it was pretty good.”
“I thought you only read romance.”
“Hayden spoiled the ending on the one before that so that was his punishment.” Chuffing out a laugh, I rake my hand through my hair, remembering more than a few tiffs the two of them engaged in during their numerous buddy reads.
“You’re an enigma.”
“I’m not; I just did this already. It sucks but it gets better when you realize that the people here actually want us and they love us without conditions. Flora’s in here at least once a week dropping food off so we don’t go hungry.”
That makes me smile, because he’s right. I can let this thing with my parents fester, or I can acknowledge that it’s one more thread no longer tying me to them and move forward until all the threads are gone.
“You’re right. Thanks.”
Picking up my phone, I scroll through my contacts until I find the one I’m looking for. I move from the lobby to the parking lot as it rings.
“Tanner, darlin’, how are you?” Flora’s voice feels like a warm hug as it wraps around me, seeping into my soul like the sunshine on my face.
“I know we talked the other night about doing another dinner with us, but I was hoping we could make it everyone.”
She must hear the way my voice catches because instead of making a joke about how her joy in life is cooking for a small army, she says, “Did something happen?” Concern fills the line and it means so much that she cares—genuinely cares.
Just like the cloth napkins and fried chicken.
“Something with my parents and I just…I think I just need everyone.” Softer, I add, “I need to see everyone.”
I need to see everyone in one place with smiles and jokes and love for each other not just because they have to but because they want to.
Because they want to be there for me.
“I’ll take care of it, darlin’. I promise.” With a huff, she adds, “Vincent told me I’m not allowed to ask for your parents’ number to give them a piece of my mind, but if it just happened to wind up in my inbox, he’d be none the wiser.”
Chuckling, I rub at the tightness in my chest and sigh, this time with a small sense of peace that I’m not alone and I haven’t been since I moved here.
“Thank you and I’ll think about it.”
“You do that and make sure you warn Deacon what he’s walking into. Everyone’s been waiting patiently to officially meet him.”
“I have no doubt.”
Now I just need to break the news to him that our next quiet dinner with Vincent and Flora will now be more aligned with a small-scale circus.
No problem, no problem at all.