Page 56 of Worth the Wait

“Should I go over there now?” I was suddenly hit with the urge to go and see it for myself. It didn’t matter that it was almost dark and that pizza was on the way. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to eat any now anyway.

“I think it can wait until tomorrow,” Dad said, his hand reaching across the table to hold mine.

“I’m not sure I can,” I admitted, feeling restless and antsy.

“Sweetheart,” my dad said, “this is something you need to see in the light of day. Wait until tomorrow.”

I reluctantly agreed as my mind spun with the possibilities of what I’d be faced with when I got there.

GO SEE WHAT HE BUILT

ADDISON

After a fitful night’s sleep, where I promised myself not to do any online sleuthing, I woke up, ready to go. It was barely six in the morning. Patrick was probably awake already, but that was way too early to show up to someone’s home, unannounced. Peeling myself out of bed, I stretched and poked my head into Sarina’s room to see her still sleeping, a face mask over her eyes.

It made me laugh. You could take the girl out of New York, but you couldn’t take New York out of my little sister.

I made my way downstairs, trying my best to tiptoe on the ones that I knew creaked under any weight, but it was no use. They still moaned as I stepped on them, alerting anyone in the house that someone was up.

“Addison?” My dad’s voice echoed from either the kitchen or the living room—I wasn’t sure which.

“Yep,” I responded as I made my way to find him.

He was standing next to the coffee maker, his crutches nowhere near him.

“Where are your crutches?”

He grunted and tilted his head, “Over there, where they belong.”

“They belong with you. You can’t walk on that foot, Dad,” I said in a scolding tone, as if he didn’t already know all of this.

“I’m not walking on it. I’m hopping,” he started to explain before he blew out an annoyed breath. “The damn things hurt, okay? How come they haven’t figured out how to make comfortable crutches yet? They know the things murder your arms and rub you damn near raw.”

My chest ached. I was uncomfortable, hearing my dad complain about something hurting him. He had always been larger than life in my eyes, a superhero, indestructible. And here he was, in actual pain.

“I’m sorry they hurt. But you have to use them. Or I can get you a wheelchair instead?” I suggested with a grin. “Want me to check on that?”

“You’re hilarious. Almost as funny as that ex-boyfriend of yours,” he said, and just like that, Patrick was in the air between us once more. “You want a cup?” he asked as he poured a mug to the top, and I shook my head.

I was too nervous to drink anything that might get me even more amped up and wired. “No, thank you.”

“You heading over there?” he asked as he took a sip.

“It’s too early, right? I mean, the sun’s barely come up,” I asked as I finally sat down at the table and turned the chair so that it faced him.

My dad laughed. “It’s a little early, yeah. Maybe wait until eight.”

I frowned. “That’s still two hours away!” I exclaimed, feeling like a kid with no patience as my mind raced with questions. “Why do you think he never told me?”

“About the house?”

“Yeah.”

My dad blew on the mug in his hand and took another drink. “You know Patrick better than I do, so why doyouthink he didn’t tell you?”

I knew the answer. Of course I knew the answer. “Because he wouldn’t want to influence my decision or make me leave New York before I was ready.”

“Sounds about right to me,” my dad agreed with a quick nod of his head. “Are you ready to leave it yet?”

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