Page 86 of My Best Friend's Dad

“Woah, easy there, chipmunk,” I said. “He’s not fully recovered.”

“Oh, shut up and let the girl welcome her grandfather back home,” Samuel laughed, hugging her back and trying to hide his pain.

I looked up just as Jenni walked out, all smiles and eyes glowing. It had been a week since the kidnapping, and I wasn’t about to let her out of my sight, insisting that she stay with us as long as she needed. As long as I needed. I had gotten so used to her being around, I couldn’t even imagine her going back to her apartment. It was as if she belonged, and even Kelly could attest to how much brighter our lives had become with Jenni around.

“Can I roll the old man inside, or are we going to spend the rest of the afternoon out here?” I asked.

“Is the chair too much for you to handle?” Kelly asked. She shot me a look that made me hold up my hands in mock surrender, and she quickly pushed me aside, grabbing the handles of the wheelchair and taking control. “I got this. You can go back to growing old.”

Samuel laughed as she rolled him away, looking at me over his shoulder. “She takes after her grandfather,” he said, winking at me.

Jenni bent down and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Welcome back, Sam,” she said.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, Jenni,” he said. “I hope my son’s at least trying to be a good host.”

“Push faster, Kelly!” I called out as they disappeared inside the house.

Jenni giggled as I wrapped her in my arms, kissing her deeply. “It already feels good to have him back,” she said.

“Yeah, now I have a trio against me,” I said. “I’m jumping up and down in glee.”

She slapped my arm and led me inside. “You don’t actually think we needed Samuel to gang up on you, did you?”

“Nope,” I smiled. “Between you and Kelly, I’m as castrated as they come.”

* * *

“So, you’re done?”

I was sitting in my father’s room, adjusting his bed as he watched me from his wheelchair.

“Pretty much,” I said.

Samuel nodded, clearly impressed. “Never thought you’d do it.”

“Really?”

He shrugged. “Thought I’d be getting a call one day telling me you to collect my orphaned granddaughter and the casket with my son’s body in it.”

I looked at him, meeting his eyes and trying to decide if he was joking or serious. “That’s a little dark.”

“Hey, kid, I know you,” he said. “That shooting you survived? I never doubted you’d jump right back into the line of fire if they let you.”

I shrugged. “I probably would have,” I said. “A part of me still wants to.”

“What changed?”

“Kelly, for starters,” I said. “We had a heart to heart. I don’t think I can put her through any more of my crap.”

&n

bsp; “That’s mature,” Samuel replied. “And very unlike you.”

“Come on, dad, give me some credit.”

Samuel grunted. “Well, I’m definitely proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I said, bending down and looping an arm under his legs, carrying him off his chair and onto the bed. I fluffed his pillows, adjusted them, and made sure he was comfortable before rolling the wheelchair by the bed and propping his crutches up against the bedside table.

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