Page 8 of Tangled Up

“You know you loved it, Lars,” he teases. “Tell you what, I’ll get each of you an autographed copy.”

“Now I have something to look forward to.” She takes a twenty out of her bag and slides it across the bar. “On that note, I’m calling it a night. I’ve got an early morning tomorrow.”

“Hey, I just got here,” Asher protests. “I wasdraggedhere against my will. If I have to stay, you do, too.”

“I’ll walk you out.” I nod to the guys, tossing a twenty on the bar. “Don’t get too wild without me.”

They call after us some shit about lightweights and nurses, and I jokingly flip them off. Outside, the air is cool, and the streetlights are on. Larsen’s car is parked on the street, and I pause as she unlocks the door, thinking.

Her advice is heavy in my mind.Face it… But how?

She pauses before climbing into her white Audi. “See you tomorrow?”

In that moment, I make a decision. “I think I’ll take off a few days. Take care of some business.”

She studies me a moment, seeming to know. “Keep in touch, okay?”

“Will do.”

She drives away, and I stroll the few blocks to my car parked in the physician’s lot. I’m going back to Eden to see Mr. C again. It’s not the same as facing what happened, but it’s as close as I can get.

I remember how fast the feelings were triggered, even after all this time. It hit me so hard, and when I least expected it—when I was with a patient, which is unacceptable.

Larsen is right. I have to deal with what happened before it leads to something worse.

* * *

“Are you aware of what time it is?” My father’s impatient tone is a sound I know well.Does he have any other tone?

“Yeah, sorry.” Clearing my throat, I tamp down my annoyance at his greeting. I didn’t call to fight. “I was planning to spend the weekend in Eden, if it isn’t a problem.”

“I don’t know why it would be. Your mother left the house to you in her will. It’s yours now.”

“Good. I’ll check on things, air it out, make sure everything’s working, no pests.”

My father sighs heavily. “If you want my advice, you should sell the place. No one goes there anymore, and it’s not particularly handy to the city.”

The suggestion tightens my throat. “I don’t think Mom would want that.”

I’m not sure I want that.

“Your mother’s no longer here, Beckham.” He says it with the placid impatience of a teacher going over a simple lesson for the twentieth time. “There’s no point in keeping a beach house no one ever uses. Besides, it’s a seller’s market.”

My father doesn’t like the beach. It’s a strange concept for someone living in the sunshine state. Still, he doesn’t care for the sand, doesn’t like saltwater, isn’t interested in maritime sports.

I loved all these things as a boy, but once I started medical school, I stopped going to Eden. Or maybe I was running from the memories.

“I think I’ll start using it again.” Step one in my endeavor to face the past.

He doesn’t reply, and a heavy silence falls on the line between us. If it were any other father and son, I suppose one might ask about the other’s health or say something likeI love youor something along those lines.

“You doing okay?” I try, not really wanting to go deep.

“Of course.” His curt tone makes me glad I didn’t say more.

After the cancer claimed my mother’s life, my father and I stopped pretending to have a relationship. He stopped pretending to try, and I grew tired of caring. I let him control me for too long as it was.

“That’s good,” I reply. “Take it easy, then.”

---