AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It might have been my imagination, but Daddy’s chest seemed to swell with pride.
“It’s coming along.”
My eyes landed on the black Range Rover parked in front of the house. I don’t know why I was surprised that Holden was the first one here. He probably woke up at five, ate a breakfast of souls, and was out the door to sue the elderly in personal injury lawsuits before eight a.m. every day. Evil didn’t sleep in on the weekends.
“Sutton? Are you listening?”
“Yes,” I lied without thinking.
“Oh yeah? What did I just say?”
“Sutton? Are you listening?”
Daddy leaned forward in his seat.
“You’re not too old for a whooping.”
I turned my head, smiling at his threat, which made the corners of his mouth dip down even further. Daddy had been threatening to whoop me my entire life and hadn’t once followed through on the threat. That worked fine, since Mama’s guilt trips were always more than enough punishment.
“Oh yeah?Todayis going to be the first time in my entire life that you’re going to give me that whooping? With your whole leg in a cast?”
He harrumphed, leaning back and adjusting his casted leg so that it rested on the floor. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”
I pulled the truck as close as I could to the front steps. Holden had left the area right in front of the stairs clear, although I didn’t believe it was intentional. Daddy was already half out of the vehicle before I’d put it in park, so I had to hop out and jog around the truck bed before he could do something stupid. He was waiting for me, leaning heavily against the door with a hard hat and protective glasses in his hands.
“Daddy,” I protested, holding my hands up in front of me as a shield, “I don’t need the glasses. I’m just following you around, and there isn’t even any work going on right now.”
He ignored my protests, tucking the hard hat under his arm so he could shove the glasses onto my face. He slid them up until his palm smashed my nose upward.
“Yes, you do. Anybody at one of my job sites wears the appropriate PPE.” He handed me the helmet, crossing his arms across his chest. “No exceptions.”
“Oh yeah?” I shoved the hat on top of my messy bun, where it listed perilously to the left. “Where’s your PPE, Mr. Safety?”
He scoffed, uncrossing his arms to adjust my hat — which meant smashing the hat down even further, to the point that I was sure my bun now resembled one of Mama’s pancakes.
“I’m a professional. I know what I’m doing.”
“This from the man who fell through a ceiling four days ago!”
He winced slightly and reached across the seat for his crutches, suddenly in a hurry to get out of here.
“Forgot about that one already, did ya?”
“Let’s go. I don’t want to keep him waiting.” Ignoring my excellent point, he awkwardly attempted to pivot his crutches in the gravel in what I assume was an attempt to make a dramatic exit. I caught a couple of colorful word choices.
“Why don’t you sit back down while I get your wheelchair out?”
Daddy stopped his struggle to give me a disbelieving stare. “I’m not using the wheelchair. I don’t need it. I get around just fine on crutches.” The man was just determined to ignore the obvious today. “Besides, you can’t get a wheelchair up those stairs.”
“Fine.” I had to concede that point. “You can crutch up the stairs and then use the wheelchair.”
“Or I could use my crutches the entire time and you could quit complaining.”
“I’m not complaining! I’m trying to get you to follow the doctor’s orders so your leg heals.” He finally managed to get himself turned around and took a tentative step toward the stairs. “You know what? Fine. You do you. I don’t have enough caffeine in my bloodstream to fight with you about this, but I will be telling Mama that you didn’t use your wheelchair.”
“Glad we agree,” he called over his shoulder, picking up steam as he went.
I took off the hat and pulled my hair into a low ponytail so it sat more comfortably on my head. Satisfied now that the hat would stay put, I grabbed the blueprints off the back seat, and both our coffees. I kicked the door closed and then slowly crossed the short distance to the stairs, wishing I had parked farther away so I could delay the inevitable a little longer.
