by Jeff Abbott
And worst of all, you’ve hated me for years for something that’s beyond my control-my parentage.” I turned my back on him. “Get out of here.” I half expected a burning cigarillo extinguished on the back of my neck, but Bid beat an honorable retreat. I sagged back into the chair and waited some more. Finally a nurse came into the waiting room. “You Mr. Goertz’s son? He’s been asking for you. You can see him now.” I mumbled a vague assent and followed her into intensive care.
The rooms were more like patios, with an open wall that faced out onto the nurses’ station so they could see the patients at all times. Wires made him look like a Christmas tree without lights. There were wires to his heart, his guts, his arms. Calm agreed with Bob Don. His eyes were shut and I stood next to the bed for a long time, studying his face. “Hey,” I finally said. He opened those big blue eyes and blinked at me. “Hey there, Jordy. How you?” “Better than you, Bob Don.” He grinned and I saw it hurt him. They’d taken the bullet out from near his heart last night and mirth didn’t make him feel happy. “But don’t get me wrong,” I said. “You’re going to be okay.” “Anne? Mark?” he whispered. “Fine, both fine.” He eased back into the pillows. “Thank God, thank God.” He glanced to the other side of the bed. “Where’s Gretchen?” I coughed. “Gretchen didn’t feel up to coming, Bob Don. I’m sorry. Maybe tomorrow.” My face tightened. “That was a damned brave thing you did, Bob Don.” He snorted, like a car salesman would at a ridiculous offer. “Damned stupid. I’d been drinking a bit after you stormed out, and I had mostly liquid courage.” “Whatever it was, it worked. You saved us.” “I don’t have the right to say this to you, Jordy, but I’m gonna. I’m old and maybe I won’t make it out of here. I would have died for you.” He choked with emotion and he shut his eyes, leaking tears. “Listen, Bob Don, I’ve been thinking.” I gulped. “You know, I just can’t forget my dad-you know, Lloyd. He was the man who raised me, the one I called Daddy all those years, the man who made me the man I am today. I won’t ever, ever forget him and no one can replace him.” “I don’t want you to forget Lloyd,” Bob Don murmured. “I don’t want to forget him either. I just want… I just want a chance to be a father to you, too.” He opened his eyes, searching for the copies of them in my face. “You’re a lucky fella, y’know. Not many folks get a chance to have two daddies that love ’em. I do love you, Jordy, very much. I always have and no matter how you feel about me, I always will.” I couldn’t answer. My own tears flooded my eyes and I stared down at the sheets covering his wounded body. “Excuse me, Mr. Poteet?” a nasal voice screeched. I looked up, blinking. A bone-thin nurse frowned at me, glancing between me and Bob Don. I recognized her as a regular customer from the library-she liked historical novels. “Are you supposed to be in here, Mr. Poteet?” she demanded, sounding irritated. “Are you immediate family to Mr. Goertz?” I blinked away tears and my hand found Bob Don’s. I cleared my voice before I answered. “Yes, ma’am, I am.”
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Document ID: fbd-bcfb0b-166b-e34f-5f94-dc5e-7497-e4eef0
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 26.09.2011
Created using: Fiction Book Designer, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
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