Covering Kendall(49)

“I’m providing for the family. That’s different.”

“Dad, it’s not different.”

“Why are you taking her side?”

“There’s no side. We’re a family. We team up and work together. Isn’t that what you’ve been teaching me my whole life? Did you forget?” Drew said.

His dad’s shoulders were hunched over again, and he didn’t look up from the table. “No, I didn’t forget.”

“Well, then. How can we work this out so everyone will be happy?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, honey,” his mom said.

He put his hand on his dad’s shoulder. “Maybe you should let your partners do some of the overtime and weekends.”

“I’m getting close to retirement. I need to bank that money.”

“Dad. Come on. Work with me here. I know there’s plenty of money for you and Mom, and if you ever needed help, I’m here.”

“We’re not taking money from you.”

“Well, it’s there if you need it,” Drew said. “Mom, will you agree to ask your boss if you can work Monday through Friday unless you’ve made an arrangement with Dad?”

“Honey, the only people who get to work exclusively Monday through Friday during the day are people who’ve been there a lot longer than I have.”

“Ask them. The worst thing they can say is no. Dad, if Mom is making adjustments in her working hours, you’ll need to do that too.”

His dad’s mouth dropped open and shut. No sound came out.

“I mean it, Dad. It’s time to compromise.”

His father’s mouth formed a flat white line, but he nodded.

“In the meantime, Mom, Dad says he misses your special dinners. Can I help with that?”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“I can pay for a chef a couple of nights a week so you can relax and enjoy yourselves, or I can get you some gift cards for restaurants you like. Which would you prefer?” Drew said.

“No, thank you,” Bonnie said. “We don’t need a chef. It’s just the two of us, and cooking a big dinner can be a challenge on weeknights. I tried making some ahead and freezing them, but he didn’t like that, either.”

“Dad—”

“I want to know she thinks of me when I’m not around,” his father burst out. “She always made things nice for me. She’s busy now.”

His mother reached across the table and took her dad’s big meaty hand in both of hers. “I’m always thinking about you, Neil. Why would you believe I don’t?”

“You have other things to do. You don’t cook unless the grandkids come over now. I don’t want to sit and watch TV without you.”

If Drew had ever gotten a hint that maybe he should make himself scarce, that was the time. He’d gotten his parents talking. They needed to sort out their differences on their own. Maybe they needed to make an appointment with their pastor or something, to talk with a trained professional.

“I’ll be right back,” he said.

He got up from the kitchen table and headed toward the stairs to his room, grabbing his overnight bag on the way. His parents barely nodded in his direction. His dad was holding his mom’s hand and they were still talking. Hopefully, they’d keep talking.

Drew unpacked his bag and changed into some warm-ups and a long-sleeved T-shirt. He couldn’t hear what was going on downstairs, but maybe that was best. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket and sent Kendall a text.


I can’t stop thinking about you.

Twenty minutes or so later, he heard footsteps in the hallway outside of his bedroom, and he opened the door a crack to see what was going on. His parents were holding hands and turned into the guest room next door. He heard the door shut behind them. This might be an even better time for him to go downstairs for a while. He loved his parents, but they needed some privacy.

He sat down on the couch in the family room, pulled out the book Kendall had lent him, and kept reading the same page over and over before he finally gave up and threw his forearm over his eyes. Maybe he should watch a little TV; it might relax him. He clicked through the channels until he found a rerun of Treehouse Masters. Maybe he’d hire the guy to build a treehouse in the greenbelt that ringed his backyard.

Drew was interested in watching the TV program, but he couldn’t stay awake. It had been a long day. He usually was in bed by ten on game days. He held up his phone to see what time it was: ten forty-four. Hopefully, his mom and dad were sleeping now. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and heard someone knocking on his front door.

It was pretty freaking late for the guys to drop by and see if the cake was all gone. Maybe one of them left their phone at his house. He hurried to the front door and looked through the peephole.