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That was the start to the end of the conversation.
“I will. I’ll let you get back to work too.”
“Bye, Laine.
“Bye, Dad.”
She put the phone down and took a deep breath. She was used to these conversations. It’d just been a while since he’d brought up the men he had hired to watch out for her. Be there for her. Do all the things her father wanted to be able to do.
She hated the bought and substituted “fathers” in her life. It was no better than paid security and she’d put her foot down there. That was just ridiculous.
She picked her phone up and made the second call to her mother.
“Hi, Laine,” her mother said. “You’re calling later than normal.”
“I didn’t get up until close to noon,” she said.
“Are you sick?” her mother asked.
“Something much more interesting.” She sent the picture to her mother.
“Oh boy. Do I want to know?”
Madelyn Connors-Ringer was calm most times. Her mother would know talking to her that she was fine and wouldn’t react after that.
“I was rehearsing the finale ofStormy Nightand got too close to the wall.”
Her mother laughed. “You might need to explain that more.”
She told her mother about the painting and then the song, her dance moves, and her stupidity.
“I bet there were some colorful words shouted in your place.”
“I’m sure there were. I don’t even remember half of them.”
She did remember the ones she said around Carson though. Talk about feeling like an idiot.
“I’m glad it was your hand that hit the wall and not your head during your hair toss. I know you like to cover a lot of ground when you get going.”
“You make a valid point,” she said. “But that would have healed faster I’m sure. Now I’ve got this splint on my finger for one to two months.”
“Where is it broken?” her mother asked.
“In the middle. Between the two knuckles. I did some research this morning and am hoping I can get a different splint in a few weeks. Otherwise, as Dad said, I’ll have some unique marks on my pottery. Guess I could label them as limited edition.”
“That’s the spirit. How was your father when you told him? Since you called him first, I’m going to assume you wanted to get it out of the way.”
“He was Dad,” she said.
“Did he ask if you went alone to the ER?”
Laine snorted. “Almost the first thing he did,” she said. She told her mother the rest of the conversation too.
“Your father loves you and cares. It makes him feel better to know he can call those guys if he needs to check on you. It’s more for that than anything.”
“Oh,” she said. “He never said that.”
“Every time you lived somewhere new, you didn’t have friends we knew. Not a significant other. If one of us tried to reach you and you didn’t answer or reply, we were too far away. Nick, Brent and Roger. Those were or are for your father’s comfort.”
