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“Nothing.” Fighting a grin, I shake my head and walk up my driveway toward the house at the same time my brother steps onto the front porch.
“I don’t have time for this shit. I’m going in to see my dad.” She grabs something from her car, locks it, and heads for the front door.
“You’re heading in the wrong direction.”
She stops, her purse clenched tightly in her fist. “Excuse me?”
“Your dad’s not here. He had a stroke yesterday.”
“Yes, I know. Why do you think I’m here?”
I want nothing more than to make some offhanded comment about her being so disconnected from her family and the life she left behind that she doesn’t even know where her own father is, but the thought of Rick lying in a hospital bed waiting to see his little girl stops me.
Richard Kincaid is one of the best men I know, and it’s not his fault that his daughter is a selfish brat.
“He’s at New Hope General. He’s getting released after the doctor makes evening rounds.”
Scarlett lifts her eyes as though she’s shocked that I know more about her dad’s whereabouts than she does. Or maybe it’s disappointment. Who the hell knows?
“How do you know he’s getting released?”
“Lexi called me.”
“Lexi,” she laughs. “Since when do you call her Lexi? You used to hate my sister.”
“You’ve been gone a long time. A lot has changed.” Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I turn toward my house. “Welcome home, princess.”
3
~Scarlett~
“Welcome home, princess,” I mimic as I drive my car—faster than the speed limit, thank you very much—and wish that I’d taken up smoking in the eleventh grade when Sheila Masters tried to push a cigarette on me.
Because I’m mad, and it’s too damn early to drink.
Not to mention, I gave that up a long time ago.
Who the hell does Tucker Andrews think he is speaking to me like that? I was never anything but nice to that guy. I mean, was a warm hello too much to ask for after being gone so long?
Apparently so. If this is how my return to New Hope is going to go, I’ll be escaping back to Nashville as soon as humanly possible. Even if I have to pack up Daddy and take him with me.
I park my rental and hurry into the small hospital where I was born. A young woman at the visitor desk looks up at me with a smile, and then her eyes widen, and she blinks rapidly.
“Holy shit,” she says.
“Hi,” I reply and flash her a smile in return. “I’m here to see Rick Kincaid. Can you please tell me what room he’s in?”
“They told me you might visit,” she says, swallowing hard. “But I wasn’t prepared.”
“Well, I’m his daughter.” I wink at her and keep the grin on my face, but I want to shake her. Just tell me where he is!
“Of course,” she says, clearing her throat as she types on her keyboard. “You know, I’m a singer.”
Of course, you are. I refrain from rolling my eyes, but just barely.
“That’s awesome.”
“I put some videos on YouTube. My name is Kathleen Perry. Maybe you could go listen sometime. I’ve sung some of your songs.”
“Thank you,” I reply. “I’ll be sure to do that. But could you please tell me where I can find my daddy?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she says with a giggle. “I got carried away. Your dad’s in room three twelve. Take the elevator to the third floor and make a right.”
“Great, thank you.”
I hurry away before I get sucked into more conversation. She’s a nice woman, but I’m anxious to see my dad.
The elevator takes forever to arrive, and I can feel her eyes on my back, so I rush over to the stairwell and climb the three flights, taking two steps at a time. I’m not even breathing hard when I rush through the doors on the third floor and find the room.
“There’s my girl,” Dad says when I come through the door.
“Hi, Daddy.” I rush over to him and kiss his cheek, then park my hip on the bed next to him. He looks pale and tired, but his speech doesn’t seem affected, and that’s a wonderful thing. “How are you feeling?”
“Oh, I’m fine, honey. I keep telling everyone that I’m fine, but they don’t listen.”
“Because you’d never say if you weren’t,” I remind him and look over at Alexis, who’s sitting on the windowsill, her hands in her lap, and her mouth locked shut. “Hey, Lexi.”
“Took you long enough to get here,” is all she says.
“I had to take a red-eye to Charleston, then rent a car and drive down. You know it’s not easy getting in or out of here.”
She doesn’t reply, just narrows her eyes and glares at me.
Typical Alexis.
“I’m happy to see you,” Dad says and kisses my cheek.
