I’d known a lot of couples in unhappy marriages, but my parents weren’t one of them. When my father loved, he did it completely. He loved Mom that way, and Maddy too. It was why he hadn’t been able to forgive the Lynwoods for Ryder hurting her.
Dad kissed Maddy’s cheek next. “You look tired,” were his first words to her.
“She looks fine,” I bit out, with more snap to my voice than was warranted. Fuck, I was always on the defense around him.
“Clearly, I’ve said something to upset you, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what it could be,” he said, making guilt churn in my gut. He had a way of making me feel like a scolded child without even trying.
“Sorry. I’m just on edge. It’s been busy at the hospital, and we just went over this with Mom.”
Mom pushed to her feet. “I think dinner’s probably done,” she said, trying to change the subject like she often did when she thought Dad and I might get into it. The thing was, she and I had the same type of discussions. Nothing I did ever seemed to be enough for her either.
“It smells good, Mom.” Maddy stood, then turned and smiled at me. “And thank you, Hutch, for not telling me I look like crap.”
“That’s not—” Dad started, but she cut him off.
“I was kidding, Daddy. Kind of…or maybe I wasn’t.”
I frowned, not because I disagreed with her, but because Maddy didn’t usually say things like that to our parents. They both had such overbearing personalities, and my sister was the complete opposite. I was better at it than she was, which maybe was part of the tension between us, but Maddy usually just went along with whatever they said.
She walked over to me and put her arm around my waist.
“We should go eat.” Mom’s stare held on to my sister’s a few extra beats. I could tell she was a little thrown by Maddy’s comment as well, but like she so often did, she ignored it and led the way into the dining room. Dad was right beside her. When I went to take a step, Maddy held me back.
“Thanks, Hutch.” She was the only person in our family to call me that. It was actually another point of disagreement between my father and me. It bothered him that I didn’t go by Grant. To him, it meant I was trying to distance myself from him.
“No problem. You look great, by the way.” The thing was, I could see what they meant about her appearing slightly tired. Her eyes did have that puffy look as if she didn’t get enough sleep, but…somehow it didn’t look like the sick kind of lack of sleep—just life-tired, normal. Now that I thought about it, she hadn’t been around as much lately. She hadn’t called as much and didn’t always answer right away when I hit her up, saying she’d been busy. “Everything is okay, though?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re one of the only people in the world who doesn’t coddle me much anymore. You did when I was a kid, but you’re better now. Please don’t start. I’m not a child, and honestly, I’m getting tired of being treated like one.”
Well, shit. I couldn’t help smiling at that. It was about damn time. Our parents meant well, but I’d always felt they actually held Maddy back with their incessant worrying. “Good for you, Maddy. Is there anything I should know about?”
She got a mischievous grin on her face but shook her head. “Nope. Now, let’s go eat before our parents find something else to nitpick about.”
We did, but it didn’t take them long to find something anyway. We’d only been at the table for a few minutes when Dad started in. “I was disappointed when Rod Bell said you didn’t join that physicians’ charity group I messaged you about.”
I was surprised it had taken Dad that long to mention it. It was important to me to give back, and I donated plenty of time, care, and money to those in need, but I preferred to do it how I saw fit. Rod Bell’s group was a bunch of rich, holier-than-thou doctors who cared more about what others saw them donating than for the actual care of people. “It’s not really my thing.” I took a bite of my food, hoping the subject would change.
“Giving back isn’t your thing?” Dad pushed.
“Daddy, don’t,” Madison said. “You know Hutch is passionate about charity.”
“How dare you,” I told him. My spine was straight, stiff, anger setting fire to my insides. “You know how important it is to me to help people. Just because I choose to do it in quieter ways, rather than with a group of people who want nothing more than public pats on the back—”