“Sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just doing my job.” I don’t care that I look like a psycho loose from his room. That’s my girl in there and this nurse saying she’s fine is damn near insulting. Since when did ‘fine’ mean unconsciousness with a goose egg on the back of your head?
“No, your job is to deliver the news from the doctor that will make this all better. Come find me when you want to do that.”
“Son!” I stop, not turning to face my father. He’s angry, his command tight. My father doesn’t yell at me much, so when he does I don’t dare challenge him back. The nurse has had enough of our shit and silently makes her exit, back around the check-in desk. Getting the courage to face my dad, I turn. His face is red, and I know I’m about to get a verbal ass whooping if there ever was one.
“Sit your ass down, we’re gonna have a little chat.”
“Dad.” I rarely call him this unless he’s mad at me. “I’m sorry, I’m just a little—”
“Worked the hell up, yeah, I know. Still doesn’t mean you need to disrespect that nice lady.” I know he’s right; she didn’t deserve my outburst.
“You’re right, I’ll apologize.” Searching the room, I look behind the counter to see if she’s there. When I see she isn’t, I make a mental note to find her later.
“Now. What the hell was all that?”
I remove my snow jacket, putting it on the empty chair next to me. I’m sweating, the feel of claustrophobia consuming me. “I just lost myself after seeing her get hurt, Dad, that shit knocked her out cold.”
“Son, she is fine, probably a concussion and that sucks, but something else is happening right now, with you, and I need you to tell me exactly what that is.” Reading me like a damn book, he peers at me, searching me for an explanation.
“I love her, Dad. Fuck, I love her.”
“Well, no shit, son.” I see Kathy walk in with Kings and Lana, carrying Styrofoam cups. Kings hands me one, patting me on the shoulder. Taking a drag of the warm coffee, I wait until he is back with Kathy and Lana, giving us some privacy.
“She’ll be okay. I promise.”
“No, Dad, you don’t get it.” I pause. “I’m in love with her and everything in me is screaming, telling me I’m going to lose her.” He furrows his eyebrows, not picking up what I’m putting down. He would be confused because he doesn’t know all the shit going on in our relationship. My dad knows I can be a tad jealous, maybe even more possessive, but he hasn’t seen me like this over anyone before.
“There’s this guy, Evan, and he’s investing in the girls’s boutique. He’s a smug bastard and, Dad, I know he wants her.” I point my finger in the direction they took Shayla a few moments ago. “He has another agenda that doesn’t involve the fucking investment. What if she realizes he can love her without any insecurities? What if he plays Mr. Perfect, pinning me the loser with mommy issues and she goes running into his willing arms.”
“Oh boy.” He shakes his head, putting his calloused hand on my neck and squeezing. He gets it; he knows what my mother did to me. “She’s not your mother, son. She’s not going to give up on you that easy. Do you ever see the way she stares into your eyes? Do you think she notices the other men looking at her? Yesterday at the bar, men stared like dogs, but her eyes were zoned in on you. That girl isn’t going anywhere.”
“How do you know that, Dad?” My hair probably looks a mess, my hands running through it over and over again.
“Trey. How many years has it been that she could’ve had someone else?”
“That has nothing to do with me. She was being selective, waiting for a good one. My girl is smart,” I defend her, my dad looking at me like I should have just had an epiphany.
“Yeah, she did wait for the best thing to come along. She waited for you.”
Holy shit, I’m an idiot, he’s fucking right, Shayla is not a dumb woman, she’s also very independent,
she wouldn’t date me unless she was absolutely sure of me. I needed to be worthy of her, and I know she wouldn’t have taken me if I wasn’t.
“Yeah, you’re right, she did, I guess I’m just a grown man who needs to work out his naïve issues.”
We all have issues, Trey, and the first thing we have to do to fix them is admit we do and learn to make changes.” He pats my back and I sit in silence a little longer, processing everything he just said. This man is a genius and I swear he has taught me some of the greatest life lessons. He was both the perfect dad and mother.
“Thanks for talking some sense into me, Pops.” Laughing at my omission, I lean my back against the chair and rest my head along the wall behind me.
“I’m an intelligent man, I tell ya.” We share a smile, my dad talking me down from the ledge once again.
I look around the hospital and take in my group’s attire; we really look out of place in our snow gear. Not only do I notice our attire, but I also see four influential individuals in my life. These people are here not only to make sure I keep from losing all sanity, but also they’re here for Shayla. I’m so fucking lucky to have these people in my life, damaged goods or not, they still love and support me. Shayla is my ultimate blessing above all, that’s why I live in constant fear of losing her to something bigger, something better. How many women can make a man’s life so much better like she can? With Shay, colors are more vibrant, smells more potent, and taste—oh fuck—taste filled with more sustenance.
Every day she’s in my life, she tries her hardest to love me to her fullest and help me forget the vague and small part of my past that was catastrophic to the future I’m now living.
“Mr. Adams?” My father and I both stand straight. Shayla’s doctor is tall, with small glasses sitting on the bridge of his wide nose. He looks to be sixty or older, which helps to ease my nerves a bit. Doctors today seem younger than the next one, this guy looks like he knows what he’s doing, meaning Shay’s in good hands. I hope.
“Shayla Donovan, that’s my girlfriend. I’m Mr. Adams—Trey.” I’m rambling nervously.