Page 50 of The Crush
I shake my head, letting my eyes drift shut while he keeps me close. “I don’t want to go back. Is that okay? If I stay?”
“Of course, bonita. As long as you want.”
Thirty-Eight
Daniel
My dad comes home later that afternoon, drawing up short by the front door when I jerk to attention at the sound of it opening. Isabel barely stirs where she’s fallen asleep against me, even when I reflexively situate her more firmly against my side.
“Only me,” my dad says, keeping his voice hushed. “You’re all right.” He pulls off his suit coat and drapes it over his arm. “You hear from anyone?”
“Gabe called a little while ago,” I tell him. “Says he is going to come by this evening with some of her things.”
“Always been a good kid.”
I nod, settling back into the couch beside Isabel. “Where did you go?”
I had worried about him being out in town dealing with the gossip, not that he would likely give a shit. He’s always had selective hearing on certain topics.
“Went to go visit your mamá for a bit. Left some sunflowers for her,” he responds easily, and I’m thankful he’s too busy looking at Isabel to see how hard it still hits me. “How is she?”
“Hurt,” I answer, noting the way Isabel’s face is still puffy from crying. “She’s been sleeping for a little while.”
“And what about you?”
I shrug. “Fine.”
He raises his eyebrows as he glances meaningfully at my bandaged hand.
“I’m fine,” I say again. “She insisted.”
“Well at least there’s someone in the house now that you’ll listen to.” My dad starts to head for his room. “I’m going to change and go catch up on some things. I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Hang on, I’ll come—” Reluctantly, I try to disentangle myself without waking Isabel, no small task considering the growing soreness in my side and the way she has herself wrapped around me.
“Stay where you are,” my dad tells me, his voice firm. “You need to rest, too.”
I open my mouth to argue, even though I’d much rather do as I’ve been told.
“I’ll handle it,” he says, holding up a hand again. “Have managed before, and a few more times certainly won’t kill me.”
I study him, the determined set of his shoulders as well as the wrinkles on his face. Still so much larger than life, still too stubborn. But getting older all the same. “Pop—”
“Danny, you’re all banged up,” my dad says, emotion seeping in before his voice softens. “Just…” He looks again at Isabel. “Just be where you need to be right now.”
Thirty-Nine
Isabel
Daniel’s hand on my arm stirs me from sleep, his voice brushing over me as I burrow myself more firmly against him. “Hm?” I ask drowsily. “What did you say?”
“Gabe is here.”
My eyes open, taking in the dimly lit living room. “He is?”
“He just pulled up.”
I hurry to stand, Daniel steadying me when I take that first step away from the sofa without remembering my ankle. Fortunately, it does feel better already after a bit of rest, and by the time I make it to where Gabe is approaching the front porch with a packed suitcase, I barely notice it.
