Washed Up (Bayside Heroes)

“Really good, all things considered. Got married a couple years ago, and my wife and I just had our first-born last November.”

“Damn. Daddy David.”

“Sounds kinky.”

I bark out a laugh.

“But yeah, man, things are good. And I definitely want to catch up now that I know you’re back in Tampa. But there’s something I need to ask you. A favor.”

“Anything,” I answer honestly.

“Well, I found out from my mom you were back.”

My heart stops in my chest, and I swallow, nerves prickling like I’m already guilty of something I haven’t even been accused of yet. “Oh?”

“She said you were her doctor after the accident. Or, well, her anesthesiologist. Either way… I was surprised to hear it from her.”

I sigh. “I should have tried to find you when I came back. Honestly, I wasn’t sure you still lived here.” I pause. “It’s been a while.”

“I know. I’m not upset. I just… God, this sounds so weird.” He pauses again. “My mom is going through a tough time, Greg. I’m not sure if she told you, but she finally left my dad.”

A zing of something akin to delight pulses through me. “She might have mentioned it in her drug-induced haze.”

“Well, my bet is that she didn’t let on even half of how hard it’s been on her. He’s been a prick with the whole thing — which is no surprise, I guess. But he’s been dragging it out, making her life a living hell however he can, and now with the accident…” A pause. “The house is old, man. It’s falling apart. I’ve been helping where I can, but with a baby at home, I can’t always get over there. And now she’s laid up from surgery.”

“What are you asking me, David?”

“Can you just come over? I’m on my way there now,” he says. “I just… I think it would do her some good to see an old face. And I have to work on the hot water heater. Just… come hang out. Catch up. Maybe bring her a bottle of wine. You know she loves that shit.”

I smirk, but it slips in a beat, because my heart is racing so fast, I think I might pass out.

“Wine is probably not a good idea, considering she’s been prescribed some pretty intense painkillers.”

“Flowers, then. Or just yourself. Trust me — I know my mom. She’ll be happy just to see you.”

Again, my heart gallops like a trained stallion, imagining the way her smile would always light up her face when I came around as a teen.

All week long I’ve been convincing myself why leaving her alone was the best plan, and now, the universe has stepped in and dressed up an opportunity to see her on a fancy gold platter for me.

This is a bad idea, I warn myself.

Still, I answer, “Give me twenty minutes.”

And then, I say goodnight to Dane and Asher and speed across town.

* * *

That Night - Sixteen Years Ago

I hope she doesn’t notice how sweaty my palms are.

I hope she doesn’t hear how loud my heart is thumping in my chest, how shallow every breath is as I hold her soft hand in mine and lead her up the stairs of her own house.

I don’t look behind me, not until I guide Mrs. Parks inside her son’s room and lock the door behind us. Her brows fold together in confusion, but I just walk over to the window and slide it open, crawling out onto the roof like I’d done a million times before with David.

“Greg! What are you doing?”

“It’s safe,” I promise her. Then, I hold out my hand for hers.

She stares at it just like she did downstairs, like there’s a warning there, a flashing neon light telling her she should walk away.

Thankfully, she ignores it, slipping her hand into mine and letting me help her onto the roof.

It’s a balmy Florida evening, humid, even as the hour approaches midnight. I angle us on the downward slope of the shingles, and once she’s steady, I release her, folding my arms over the tops of my knees and staring out over her backyard.

We’re side by side, our thighs just barely touching as she folds her arms around her legs and balances her chin on her knees. For a while, neither of us speak. Her eyes wash over the yard, and mine wash over the bruises already appearing on her upper arms.

I force a calming breath, jaw clenching.

I’m glad it’s David who went after his father. I’m glad he volunteered me to stay. Because had he been the one to stay behind, I know I would have found an excuse to leave. I know I would have lied and said I was tired and going home, only to chase down that piece of shit and show him what it feels like to be thrown to the ground the way he’d tossed his wife.