Page 34 of Running Scared
Bailey’s scowl relaxed, and he thought carefully, Emmett’s fading image behind his eyes as he did so.Emmett had been quiet and studious, with pale brown hair that had been thinning a bit in the end.He’d been a planner—much like Dean—but meticulous.The kind of man who did the calculations six to eight times, just to make sure.
Dean did the calculations twice, filed the information away, and moved on.
But then, Dean’s intelligence was fiercer, his moods more mercurial—although he appeared just as loyal and dedicated to his own causes.
“They’re a lot alike,” he said in surprise.“They’re both planners, but Dean’s… well, Dad, you’ve got to meet him.When people say ‘he’s sharp,’ they haven’t met Dean.He’s, like, triple-folded-carbonite-steel kind of sharp, but he never sits still.”
“So you trust his plans,” Connor said, nodding.“Already.So maybe the new isn’t the problem.”
Bailey tried to scowl again, but he couldn’t.He’d thought of Emmett for the first time in years without that tight knot of tragedy binding up the memory, and he’d found the memory good.A kind, quiet, dedicated man, Bailey had loved him so very much and would have been happy with him for the rest of their lives.But Emmett wasn’t here anymore.
And Dean was.
“No,” Bailey said faintly in reply to his father, rocked a little by the revelation.He’d never be “over” Emmett.He’d never not miss him.But he’d lived without him for four years now, and apparently his heart had healed enough to beat some more.
“So about the ER,” Connor began, and Bailey glanced at him sharply.
There was something in his father’s voice that Bailey didn’t like.It was the same tone of voice Connor had used when Bailey had been waiting for his college acceptance letters, when Baileyhadn’tgotten into his top choice.
“What about it?”Bailey asked, wary.
“Just… you know that nice woman you work with?Sarah… Sarabeth…?”
“Sarree Wilson?”
“That’s the one.Do you know she’s been calling me up and chatting every so often?”
Bailey stared at his father in the air-conditioned dark of the sleeping cabin until Mr.Bumble bit him to get his attention.
“I had no idea,” he said, his voice practically squeaky with surprise.
“Oh yeah, started after Emmett passed.Kept going.She’s a nice lady.We exchange Christmas cards.Her husband makes the most amazing fudge.”
“I know,” Bailey said, still lost.“She brings it to work over the holidays.”
“She says you like the Black Forest fudge best,” Connor said gravely, showing the same attention to raising his son that he had through Bailey’s childhood.“But anyway, she’s been looking to retire, you know.”
“I know,” Bailey replied, remembering their last conversation before Dean had hustled him out of Outskirts.“She’s been waiting for me, I think.Until she knew I’d be okay.”
“That’s right, son, she has,” Connor told him.“But I want you to think.Who else you hanging on for, there at Outskirts?I know you and Sarree have been propping each other up pretty steadily, but who are you holding on for when she’s gone?”
There was really only one person—they both knew that—and he wasn’t around to appreciate the dedication.
“They need good doctors in Texas,” Bailey said, but his voice was weak and he knew it.
“They need good doctors everywhere.Wait and see, son.”
“You haven’t even met this guy!”Bailey finished on a wail, remembering their conversation that morning.Oh God.That morning?Really?
“Whose fault is that?”Connor asked.
Bailey let out a grunt.“Well, sort of both of ours.We… we didn’t start out communicating, you know?”
A passing flash of light showed Bailey his father’s arched eyebrows.“Oh,really.”
Bailey let out a mortified burst of laughter.“I… you know, Dad, you don’t want to hear this story.”
“Oh I do.Ireallydo.”
