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“I’m calling security,” the receptionist says.
“No,” I exclaim, shooting her a pleading look. I do not want Aiden to watch our dad be arrested. “I’ll get him out.”
“I’ve got this.” Boone Rivers brushes past me. “Steven… good to see you.”
Boone’s voice is pleasant, nonthreatening. He holds out his hand to my dad, who stares back at him through bleary eyes. He’s trashed and I’m not sure he knows the famous Pittsburgh Titans hockey player.
Then I see recognition dawn and a sloppy grin overtakes his face as he grabs Boone’s hand and pumps it. “How the hell are you, son? You here visiting my boy?”
My dad’s voice booms and I glance back at Aiden to see his head bowed so he doesn’t have to watch the spectacle.
“Iamvisiting Aiden,” Boone says, his tone reassuring and sympathetic. He puts a hand on my dad’s shoulder, not to strong-arm him, but he squeezes it as if he understands the gravity of Aiden’s disease and the weight it bears on all of us. “And right now, you’re a little too drunk to be here. You don’t want your son to see you like this, do you? He’s got enough on his plate to deal with so I’m asking you, don’t make this harder on him.”
Dad sways a little, looking thoroughly confused. He glances down the hall, squints at Aiden in his wheelchair and smiles again in a proud, goofy way. “That’s my boy there. So strong, isn’t he?”
“Very strong,” Boone agrees and then gently turns my dad toward the exit doors. “But you’re making this hard on him by showing up like this. Let’s get you home, sobered up and you can come back later.”
Miraculously, my dad lets Boone lead him out. I glance back at Aiden and hold a finger up to him that I need a minute. He nods and I rush out behind them.
Normally, when my dad gets this drunk, there’s no reasoning with him. He’s not a mean or abusive alcoholic, but he is illogical and it’s difficult to control him.
Boone continues to walk with my father, his arm now around his shoulders as Dad waxes poetic about Aiden. “He’ll beat this disease, mark my words. That boy is so strong. Just like his sister. I’ve got the two best kids in the world.”
“I can tell how proud you are,” Boone says softly as he traverses a short breezeway to the parking garage. I have no clue where Boone is taking him and I follow hesitantly.
“It’s so hard though,” my dad laments morosely. “I try my best. I really do.”
“Your best isn’t coming here to the hospital drunk though, is it?”
I’m surprised not only by Boone’s frank talk but by the fact he so effortlessly has my dad under control. Had it just been me dealing with him, security most likely would have had to get involved because I don’t have the patience for this. I get so angry when he’s like this and I’m so protective of Aiden.
My dad hangs his head low. “I know. I’m a terrible father. I can’t do anything right. I’m a complete embarrassment.”
He goes on and on as Boone continues up the garage’s first-level ramp before he stops at an iron-gray Porsche Cayenne. Boone squeezes my dad’s shoulder. “I’m going to take you home, okay?”
Looking uncertain, Dad finally nods at Boone in agreement and I just watch in stunned silence.
Boone unlocks the passenger door and holds it open. “In you go, Steven.”
My dad practically falls into the seat and has a hard time getting his legs in. He struggles with the seatbelt and Boone leans in to help him. My heart squeezes over his kindness.
Once he’s all buckled in, Boone closes the door gently. My dad immediately slumps against it, his eyes closing and head lolling as he passes out.
Boone turns to me and offers a tight smile as he pulls off his gloves and mask before easily ripping the paper gown off his body. He balls it all up tight and sticks it under his arm to hold before pulling his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your phone number?”
I’m so flummoxed, I rattle it off without thinking. Boone’s fingers move efficiently over the screen. “I’m sending you a text now so you have my number. Text me your address and I’ll get him home. I’ll call you after I get him settled in.”
“My phone is in my purse, which is on Aiden’s wheelchair,” I say, throwing my thumb over my shoulder toward the hospital.
Boone nods and flips to Google Maps. “What’s the address?” I tell him and he punches it in. He studies the map a moment before glancing up at me. “Go on in. Aiden will need you.”
“But… you can’t… I mean, this isn’t your problem. I should—”
“You need to go take care of your brother,” Boone says calmly, his hand cupping my elbow for a soft squeeze. “This isn’t my first rodeo with drunks so I’ll handle your dad, and you handle your brother.”
“I…” My words falter and I shake my head. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because I like your brother a hell of a lot and because I used to have a dad just like this. I know what it’s like.”
