“How are things?” Dad asks, kissing the side of my head.
“Things are things.” I squeeze his waist then take a seat next to him.
“How are things going at the hospital?” Mom asks, studying me in the way only a mother can, like she’s visually taking my temp and checking me for injuries.
“Good. I spoke with one of the emergency room nurses yesterday, and she told me the hospital offers a class on trauma and critical care. She said that if I take it, it should put me in a position to transfer to that department if something opens up.”
“That’d be good,” Dad says, and I nod.
“Fingers crossed. The class is hard to get into. Hopefully they accept me. If not, I might see about going somewhere else to take the same courses.”
“You’ll get in,” Mom says, and I smile at her. My mom is the kind of mother who believes her kids have the power to walk on water and would go to war with anyone who says differently. I love that about her. “So what are you doing today?” she asks, handing Dad a plate piled high with eggs, bacon, and toast.
“Grocery shopping, ‘cause I have no food in my house. Then I’m meeting Harlen at the shop and we’re going to go pick out barstools for my kitchen.”
“He’s going shopping with you to buy barstools for your house?” she asks, sounding like he agreed to walk across hot coals while balancing a sword on his nose.
“It’s not a big deal. He said he didn’t have anything to do today, so he’s borrowing Evan’s SUV and helping me out.”
“I could have taken you,” Dad grumbles, and I turn to look at him.
“You hate shopping,” I remind him.
“I still would have taken you.”
“I know, but now you don’t have to.”
“Honey, you need to be careful. Harlen’s a—”
“Please don’t.” I shake my head, not wanting to hear my dad talk badly of Harlen.
“Baby, that man has demons.”
“Yeah, and I bet if I asked anyone, they would tell me the same thing about you when you were younger. But mom took a chance on you.”
“Are you taking a chance on him?” he questions, and I squirm on my chair.
“We’re friends and I like him. I think he’s a good guy. He’s easy to be around and he makes me laugh. That’s all I know right now.”
“Nico,” Mom says, and Dad’s eyes go to her and I watch her shake her head. Then I look at my dad and see his jaw is tight. “I like him,” Mom inserts, and my eyes go back to her. “He’s always been respectful, and if you like him, I like him,” she finishes then hands me a plate that is just as full as the one she gave my dad. “Though I still wouldn’t have minded going with you to pick out barstools.”
“I still need lamps and a coffee table. Next month, after I close on the house, I’ll have the money for those things. We’ll go to Nashville, spend the day shopping, get dinner, and see a movie,” I promise, and she smiles.
“You got a date.”
“Good.” I dig into my plate then feel my dad’s hand wrap around the back of my neck. Turning to look at him, I see his eyes are soft.
“Love you.”
“Love you too, Dad,” I whisper, and he nods then touches his lips to my forehead in the same spot Harlen has kissed me twice. Not that I’m counting. Letting me go, he goes back to eating. I do the same before taking off, going grocery shopping, and meeting Harlen to pick out barstools.
***
“Where are you?” Willow asks, and I press my cell phone closer to my ear so I can hear her over the loud music playing from the speakers in the back of a truck parked a few feet away and the people around me talking loudly.
“At a bonfire!” I shout into the phone, and Harlen, who is standing at my side, looks down at me. Rolling my eyes at him, I catch his smile in the light of the fire.
“A bonfire,” Willow repeats. “Who the hell are you at a bonfire with?”
“Harlen,” I answer, and a few people around me turn my way to look at Harlen and me, probably wondering what the hell he’s doing with me. Something I have been wondering myself for the last few weeks. “I’ll be back,” I tell him, and he looks at me then scans the area before meeting my gaze once more.
“Stay where I can see you.”
“Righty-o,” I mutter, dropping my eyes to my feet. I stomp in my Converse through the grass and mostly dirt, toward the outskirts of the party, where there are more than a few people making out, and in some cases having sex, in the cover of darkness.