Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 97667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97667 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Time to jump into the fray. “When are they doing the tests?”
“Any minute now,” my father answers. Over which, my mother adds, “That means we’ll be here all night.”
A large man is suddenly standing in the doorway. He’s dressed in black track pants and a white t-shirt and he’s sweaty––like he ran here. “I got here as fast as I could.” His gray eyes move from me, to my father, to my mother. None of us move a muscle, or say a thing. We all just stare.
There are moments in life where you don’t get a do-over, where the true nature of your character is revealed. You either step up to the plate or lose your chance forever. These moments shape a life. These moments earn you the right to say to yourself ‘at least I got the important stuff right.’
The man standing in the doorway might not consider me a friend, but in this moment he has earned my eternal devotion. “Calvin?” is all I say, stunned and on a level that I don’t want to examine too closely, happy as shit.
He steps further into the room and holds a hand out to my mother. “Calvin Shaw, pleasure to meet you ma’am.”
My mother looks as dazed as I feel. Then her face cracks into a huge smile as she takes his hand. “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” she coos. Good grief. “We’ve heard such wonderful things about you. It’s a shame it has to be under these circumstances.”
Calvin’s attention shifts to my father’s equally stunned expression. “Sir.” The two men shake. “How are you feeling?”
When my father remains mute, my mother interrupts with, “Tom.”
“I’m okay…thank you for asking,” Tom finally answers.
Who knew my parents were such groupies.
“Can I speak to you for a minute,” I say with eyes wide and point to the door. He follows me out to where Sam is still sitting patiently.
“Is Mr. D okay?” Sam asks.
I nod and answer, “Go ahead and say hello if you want.” He gets up and leaves Cal and me standing in the hallway. Just then, over his massive shoulder, I realize we are not alone. A large group of nurses and orderlies are now loitering near the nurse’s station where there were none before. I can feel the frown forming on my face.
“Are you here to take Sam home?” I ask the big man.
His hands are on his hips. He’s peering down at me thoughtfully from his lofty height. He doesn’t answer right away, still in the middle of his thorough examination of my person. I start to get a little nervous for reasons I can’t explain.
“Do you want me to?”
“I think that would be best. I’m sorry I dragged you two into this. I had no idea what to expect when I got here.”
“Don’t apologize. I’m just glad he’s okay.” He stares at me some more. “I’ll come back later. Mercedes can watch Sam.”
“No, no,” I say shaking my head. “It’s going to be a long night. You guys need to eat dinner.”
“Let me get you something before I go. Coffee?”
I’m about to answer when a pretty, young nurse approaches us. Expecting an update on the schedule for my father’s tests, we both turn toward her.
“Mr. Shaw, I’m like, your biggest fan,” she gushes. Sure you are, honey––of his face, you mean. “Can I get your autograph?”
Calvin’s expression transforms before my eyes. His brows lower, lower again. His eyes narrow into cool gray slits and his jaw hardens. I want to take a step back and that look isn’t even directed at me.
“This isn’t a social call. I’m here because my girlfriend’s father has been admitted for a heart issue. Unless you have some information regarding Mr. DeSantis I suggest you leave us alone.”
Heavy emphasis on the g word––heavy frigging emphasis. My stomach is busy doing a flippy thing while the poor girl blanches. Her jaw works in an attempt to respond but nothing comes out. That’s when I rush into this, “What Mr. Shaw means to say is that we’re all a little concerned at the moment––maybe later.”
“Oh…okay,” she stammers out, turns on her heels, and flees the scene of the crime.
“Why’d you do that?” Cal practically growls.
“You have a contract to renegotiate, Champ. Bad press isn’t going to help your cause.”
His sullen expression says everything he doesn’t say out loud. “Coffee?” he grumbles.
“Lots of milk and two Splendas.”
“I know.”
Before I have a chance to ask how, his broad back is already disappearing down the corridor.
Sam and Calvin leave shortly afterward. We wait an eternity for the nurse to come fetch my father for his tests. In the meantime, my mother and I hang in the cafeteria.
“He seems like a nice man.”
I glance up from my emails to find my mother’s attention still buried in a paperback she always carries in her purse.