Page 14 of Worth the Wait
He wanted to call out. Step from the shadows and close the aching distance between them. Say something that might bridge years of silence.
But his phone rang.
Loud.
Freddie swore under his breath, scrambling for it in the dark. Across the road, Nathan’s head jerked in his direction, eyes scanning the street.
Freddie froze.
But a voice calling from the doorway tore through the moment, “Dad!”
Nathan turned away.
Freddie ducked low, heart hammering, and jabbed at the screen to silence the call. The ringtone died with a pathetic chirp, but the damage was done, and he clutched the phone, hardly daring to move as Nathan limped backup the drive, urgency in his stride. He reached the porch, exchanged a few words with Alfie,then disappeared inside.
The red door closed behind him with quiet finality.
And Freddie blew out a close-call breath.
“Freddie? You there?”
Shit. Freddie fumbled with the handset, plugged it into the car’s console, and turned the ignition enough to light up the screen. “Hey, Jude.”
A pause. Then a wry voice crackled through, a hint of a more northern accent than Freddie was used to from these parts. Yorkshire based probably. He didn’t know because he’d not really asked and Jude hadn’t offered.
“Most people sing that line, you know.”
Freddie huffed a half-laugh, focus still fixed on the red door as if sheer will might make it swing open again. “Yeah, well. I like to be different.”
“Yeah.”Jude paused, the stretch poignant.“You are.”
Freddie didn’t answer that. He let it hang and finally peeled himself away from the kerb, setting his phone on the dash as he eased the car out of Faraday Road, red door disappearing in the rearview mirror.
“I was calling to see if you fancied the pub quiz down the Dog and Duck tonight?”Jude said.“We’re a player down on the teacher’s team. We’ve got all the bases covered. Obviously, I’ve got history locked down. Tom’s our English Lit whiz, Mel’s numbers and science, Donna’s drama and our resident celeb/media addict.”
“Lemme guess.” Freddie turned onto the bypass. “PE teacher dropped out.”
“Yep. Quit completely.”
“The team?”
“The school. So I thought of you.”
Freddie snorted. “Because of my lifelong passion for sport?”
“You play in the emergency services five-a-side tournament, don’t you?”
“Yeah.”
“And you run. Go to the gym. I’ve even seen you look at a rugby match when it was on the pub screens. You’ve got more sport knowledge than any of us.”
At the next roundabout, Freddie slowed, one hand on the wheel, the other scrubbing down his face. Exhaustion and grit clung to him. But he should say yes. Let himself be pulled into something light and normal. A few pints. A laugh. Quiz questions and bad team names. Maybe finally meet the people Jude talked about so often.
Maybe let someone take care of him for five minutes.
“Had a pretty shitty shift, to be honest,” he sighed. “I stink.”
“Have a shower here, then.”Despite the boldness of the statement, Jude’s voice was tentative. As if reaching out but half-expecting to be pushed away.“I’ll cook something. We can walk to the pub from here.”
