Quarter Mile Hearts(29)
Please don’t answer.
No such luck.
“Leigh, nice of you to call this time,” a sarcastic voice drawls down the line.
“Sorry Josh, I left in a bit of a rush.”
“That’s an understatement.”
“It was a family emergency.”
“So you said in your text.”
“Yeah, well, I’m going to have to stay longer than I expected.” I wait and hear him heave a heavy sigh.
“Fine, take all the time you need. I’ll figure it out.”
“Thanks, Josh.” I breathe a sigh of relief and get ready to end the call.
“Leigh?”
“Yeah?”
“What about us?”
“What about us?”
“I thought you’d taken off to think.”
“No, there really was a family emergency. But I have been thinking.”
“And?”
I take a deep breath, knowing that what I say now will have serious repercussions.
“And there is no us. I’m sorry, Josh, but that’s my decision.”
There is a long silence on the other end, and my nerves draw tight. The longer it stretches, the worse the feeling of dread becomes. Eventually, his voice comes on the line, tight, and I can imagine the rigid set to his jaw as he controls his anger.
“Fine. I’ll speak with you later.”
“Thanks.” I disconnect quickly, and although I expected to feel some sort of relief, like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders, I don’t.
When I turn around, my dad is awake and watching me with concern. He’s the one who’s lying in a hospital bed yet he’s looking at me with worry etched on his face.
“Who was that?” he croaks, and I move to pour him a glass of water and let him have a sip.
“Work.”
“Your boss?”
“Something like that.”
“You didn’t sound too happy to speak to him.”
“Yeah, well…”
“What’s going on, Leigh?”
“Nothing; he was just a bit pissed that I rushed off without any notice.”
“Are you dating him?”
I feel awkward talking about things like this with my dad, and I busy myself rearranging his blankets and his table. “No, although he’d like me to.”
“You can’t keep shutting everyone out.”
“It’s not like that. Look, can we drop it?” I plead with him, and after a beat, he nods and lets it drop, for now. Relieved, I sink back into the seat at the side of his bed. There isn’t much I can do for him here, but I don’t want to leave him, and I don’t want to go home on my own.
“Tell me,” he says, amusement lacing his tone. “What was Max Morgan’s car doing parked in our driveway overnight?” I groan and drop my head in my hands. I knew it was just a matter of time before he found out about that. I hadn’t anticipated it being less than twenty-four hours, but that’s the way this town works.
“How did you know that?” But then I see the smile on his face and know he’s finding my embarrassment more amusing than anything.
“Ahh, that would be telling.” He taps the side of his nose and winks.
“Beth and her stupid wedding planning. We got drunk and Aaron called him to come and get me.” None of what I’m saying is demonstrating that I’m a responsible daughter, but Dad knows me better.
“I always wondered why you and Max were never friends. You have a lot in common.” He raises an eyebrow, and I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with my dad.
“Not you, too. I’ve not forgotten that you didn’t tell me he works for you.”
“Did I not?” He tries to look innocent, but the shifty look in his eyes doesn’t convince me.
“No.”
“Is there a problem?”
“No, he’s good at his job.”
“I know. That’s why I hired him and why he’s been there for four years.”
“Four years?” I can’t hide my surprise and my dad nods, still watching me closely. I wish I could work out what he is thinking.
“Why don’t you stay, Leigh? We miss you, and if I’m being honest, you don’t seem happy whenever you come for a visit. In fact, you’ve been happier this past week since you came back.”
“I don’t know, Dad. My work and…”
“You can work here, either at the garage or do something else. Promise you’ll think about it.”
“Okay, I will. I’m going to go, but I’ll be back tomorrow.” I lean over and hug him as best as I can without hurting something.
“Love you,” Dad murmurs in my ear, and I nod, unable to speak as I feel the prick of tears in the corner of my eyes. What is happening to me? I’m an emotional wreck these days.