I have to protect my family, no matter the cost.
Seven
Bristol
Sunday is a lazy day after my visit to the emergency room. I avoid the text from my father, and when I get to work; Mom is already at my desk.
“How was your weekend?” Mom asks, looking pointedly at me, like she knows more than she should.
“Fine, Em.” I never refer to her as Mom at work. I want to be seen as a professional, and calling one of my superiors “Mom” just seems weird.
“Was it?” There’s that look, the one that tells me she knows I’m lying or hiding something. She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “A little birdy told me you were in the emergency room this weekend.”
“Are you spying on me?” I can’t believe her! I drop my purse on the desk and stalk off for the breakroom, hoping that Emerson takes the hint and leaves me alone.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t seem to get the message.
“There’s no need,” Em says, and I know she’s trying to be protective as my mother, but it still irks me.
Why is she even here? Can’t she go back to New York and work the field office back at home?
“I’m not a little kid. I don’t need you and Dad constantly worrying about me.” I grab a cup of decaf and spike it with a third of flavored creamer to kill the taste.
It’s bad enough that they have been renting a home in the mountains. Dad calls it his vacation home. It’s more like a place for them to be near me.
Ever since I started at Great Falls, they seem to spend more time here than New York, but it’s also the off-season for hockey.
Em watches but doesn’t say anything.
“Who told you I was in the E.R.?” I glare up at Em. “Dad texted me yesterday. How did he know?”
Emerson keeps her mouth shut, but there’s a hint of a smile on her lips, like she has a secret of her own.
“Mom!” I stomp my foot, demanding to know how she found out. “Was it someone at the hospital?” I’m well aware of HIPPA and the fact that, legally, they’re not allowed to disclose personal information, but Dad is a huge donor, so maybe they look the other way when it comes to legality?
Well, screw them.
“Does it matter who told us?” Em walks me back to my desk, and I take a seat, grumbling the entire time.
I should start filing papers, but instead, I want to throw them at her head and make her clean all of it up.
Emerson shows me her phone, and the forwarded message from my dad.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Liam sent the text?” My jaw drops and the anger I felt earlier is nothing compared to the rage barreling through me right now. “I’m going to kill him!”
“Probably not the best words to say around a bunch of private investigators,” Mom quips.
I roll my eyes. “Well, forget you heard them.” I sip my coffee, but it doesn’t take away the anxiety and irritation creeping all over me.
How dare he!
When I explicitly told him not to contact my father, he went behind my back and did so anyway.
What a pompous jerk!
“Listen, I think it was nice that he took care of you. I didn’t realize you and Liam reconnected.”
I laugh darkly. “He’s an asshole. We didn’t reconnect. He just … it doesn’t matter.” I refuse to explain myself to Em.
