Page 143 of Off-Ice Misconduct
“You asshole. Don’t ever do that again, or I’ll kill you myself.”
I hover outside of Dad’s periphery, watching East smooth a hand over Dad’s blanket again, feeling that he’s really there, that he’s not so stricken with grief that he’s imagining this.
“How long was I out?” Dad croaks.
“A few days, and it was way too fucking long, McKinnon,” East says.
“You’re here.” He smiles at East, closing his eyes briefly as if the effort of speaking is too much.
“Of course, I am. I never left.”
I step forward, drawing both their gazes. East startles like he’s been caught doing something private. But Dad’s whole face changes. Exhausted and bandaged, with one eye swollen nearly shut, he still manages a crooked smile for me.
“Hey, kid.”
“Hey,” I answer.
“Wow, you look like shit, too. There a dress code I missed out on?”
“You need to look in a mirror, bud,” I tell him. “We were just following your lead.”
I move closer to the other side of the bed. I don’t touch him yet—I’m not ready—but I look at him.Reallylook. Even as shit kicked as he is, he’s happy.
“I’ve been here, watching East fawn over you,” I say.
“Did he cry?” Dad asks, and East lets out an offended sputter.
“You almost died, you fucking dick.”
Dad chuckles—barely, but enough—and that’s when I finally let the breath out.
With Dad officially on the mend, I can head back to school, but it’s not far from the hospital. I leave campus as often as I can to help. Dad’s vitals remain strong, so they want him up, bearing weight on his broken leg. There’s a large rod in it now, and he thinks he’s bionic, which makes for some entertaining bickering matches between him and East.
East asks if I can stay with him on and afternoon after classes, so he can get some stuff from home.
The nurses let me take him outside, and I push him around in a wheelchair. We’ve hit February, so I’ve got him bundled up, a thick scarf around his neck, a blanket tucked around his thighs.
“You think I’ll be up in time to walk down the aisle again?” he says.
He’s been quiet. That’s his way of starting a conversation about East.
“I’ve been sleeping with my professor,” I say instead of answering him.
“Yeah, I have eyes, Ace. Kind of noticed the giant, looming presence, with hawk-like eyes that followed you everywhere. But you do something similar. You search for him every so often, making sure he’s still there, even when you’ve got your hand on him. Which you do, all the time.”
I wince. “We’re that obvious, eh?”
“Totally obvious.”
“He’s my lobster, Dad,” I blurt out.
“Then I’ll call Uncle Patrick and tell him to look the other way.”
“Um, is it really that easy?”
“Yeah, Ace. But, I’ll admit, it’s only because I’ve seen you two together and I’m going through the same thing. I don’t condone what I’ve done with East. I’m so much older than he is and his boss. It’s all kinds of wrong.”
That gets a chuckle from me. “Are you sure you’re his boss?”
