Private Practice (Private Pleasures 1) - Page 54

“When Longfoot drove me home, he told me I could either get myself under control, or he’d convince you to be done with me. He also warned me that the next time I showed up anywhere cursing and throwing punches, he’d take another fist to the jaw, and then he’d press charges and have my sorry ass thrown in jail.”

Ellie shook her head, battling disbelief. “Tyler told you this?”

Frank nodded. “Get sober and get my head together or he’d have me arrested and I’d never see you again. Said those were my ‘options.’ I’ve seen some good bluffs in my day, but looking at him, I knew he meant every word. I went to my first meeting Saturday night, got matched up with Sharon as my sponsor. I’ve been sober for”—he squinted at the clock on the wall opposite the bed—“damn near three days.”

“That’s amazing,” she said, meaning it, even though the information about Tyler left her almost as stunned as her father’s sobriety. Nobody had ever interceded in her relationship with Frank. Not even when she was little. Of course, she’d never asked for help, either. Asking for help meant letting someone know the sorry state of her home life, and the only thing more humiliating than the relationship itself would have been letting someone else know. But Tyler had seen, and he’d stepped in. Part of her wanted to be angry at his interference, but she couldn’t. Not when, thanks to him, Frank was making an effort to take responsibility for his health. She owed him her gratitude, on top of everything else.

“You were at your first meeting Saturday night when I stopped by to drop off groceries?”

“Yeah. I left you a note.”

“I saw. Sunday night I drove by your place around nine, but all the lights were off.”

“Another meeting, and afterward, Sharon and I went and got coffee. Talked some more. She told me her story, how she lost her husband ten years back and hit the bottle hard for a long while afterward. She’s been sober for five years now, but she remembers what it was like, being where I am.”

“Sound like you two talked quite a bit.”

“Talking is a big part of this program. I swear I never flapped my gums so much in my life as I have these past few days.”

“I’ll bet,” she said, biting back a smile at the image of her stubborn, taciturn father sitting in a circle of sympathetic listeners, discussing his feelings. But it was exactly what he needed to do, and the knowledge that he’d taken these first shaky steps down the path to welln

ess left her cautiously optimistic. “Sharon’s waiting to see you, if you’re ready for more talking?”

“Yeah, yeah, in a minute. I, uh…you’ve been seeing a lot of Longfoot?”

Oh, God, they were not having this conversation. “Frank—”

“I just wanna say he cares about you. I hope I didn’t screw anything up for you there.”

She stared at the floor and blinked hard, because hot tears suddenly threatened. “No. I screwed it up all on my own.”

“You’ve given out a lot of second chances, kid. Take one yourself.”

Chapter Eighteen

“Jackets suck. Ties suck. This whole outfit sucks. I don’t know how I let you talk me into this. I look like a moron and I probably sounded like one, too,” Junior whispered to Tyler, as if his voice might carry down the carpeted hallway and through the closed door of the conference room at Bluelick Savings and Loan where the lending committee currently convened. Tyler folded his arms across his chest—mostly to keep from fidgeting with his own tie—and gave Junior what he hoped was a reassuring look.

“You did fine, answered all their questions cogently—”

“Ty, I don’t even know what that means.”

Tyler bit back a smile. “It means you sounded like you knew what you were talking about. We both did. If they don’t approve the loan, it’s not because we had our heads up our asses.”

Grady Landry stepped out of the conference room, glanced down the hall at them, glanced away, then drew himself up and walked toward them. Tyler braced for bad news. When Grady drew even, his tombstone of a face split into a grin. He slapped Junior on the shoulder and pumped Tyler’s hand. “Congratulations, boys, you got yourselves a loan.”

Junior yee-hawed and returned Grady’s slap, whacking the big man’s shoulder hard enough to make Tyler wince, then whacking Tyler’s for good measure. “Shit, Grady. I thought you were coming down here to chase us off.”

Grady’s smile widened. “I’m entitled to a little fun now and then.” He ushered them to the lobby. “You gave the committee a solid presentation, impressed them with the project plan, the stability and skill of your team, and the numbers. Basically, you took away their reasons to say no. Go celebrate. Tyler, I’ll call you when the docs are ready.”

After another round of handshakes Tyler followed Junior out the door and into the midday sun. Junior punched his shoulder again. “Still think everyone sees you as an irresponsible troublemaker who’s only good for one thing?”

“Maybe not the irresponsible troublemaker part, but unfortunately, the person who matters most still sees me as only good for one thing.”

“You’re just going to have to show her she’s wrong. Get on over there and tell her Bluelick Savings and Loan decided to take a chance on you, and she should, too. Oh, and tell her I hope Frank’s feeling better.”

“I just saw Frank Friday night. He’s fine.”

Junior shot him a funny look, and then shook his head. “Okay, bad news. Ellie may, in fact, think you’re only good for one thing. She hauled herself over to Lexington Memorial last night because paramedics brought Frank to the ER with some kind of complication from his diabetes. I found out this morning from Lou Ann, whose cousin works the admissions desk and was on duty when they brought him in. By the time she clocked out they listed him in good condition, but last she heard they were keeping him a few days.”

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