Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78227 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“I don’t know. We could call Sheraton. I have his cell phone number.”
“We can try, but what if he doesn’t want to talk to us?”
“He will.”
“How can you be so sure?” I ask.
“Because I’m going to make an offer he can’t refuse.”
CHAPTER FIVE
RORY
“Hey, Daddy,” I say to my father.
He’s the most alert I’ve seen him since he woke up.
“Hey, baby girl,” he says, his voice hoarse.
“Don’t make him talk, Rory,” Mom says. “It hurts his throat.”
“Maureen, let her be.” Dad smiles at me. Sort of. His lips are dry and chapped, and his skin so pale.
I place my hand on his shoulder. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
“They’ve got him pumped full of drugs, Rory,” Mom says.
I won’t be short with my mother. She’s trying to protect the man she loves, of course. This is her husband, her life mate, and it’s not like I can kick her out of this room so I can spend some time alone with my father.
Besides, Jesse and I spoke to the doctor before I came into the room, and Dad’s prognosis is excellent.
“I hear you’re going to get out of here in a few days,” I say. “It’ll be really good to have you home.”
“Yes,” Mom says, “and we will not be eating any more saturated fat.”
“What about the cattle we raise?” I ask.
“Just because we raise beef doesn’t mean we have to eat it.”
“For God’s sake, Maureen,” Dad chokes out. “We make wine for a living, too.”
“Which Dad doesn’t even drink,” I add.
Dad is great at making the stuff, but he doesn’t drink it. He’s not all that fond of alcohol, which makes his heart attack all the more bizarre.
“Right now we have no grapevines, thanks to that fire,” Mom says. “But maybe you should drink wine, Frank. I’ve heard that red wine especially is good for the heart.”
“Did you read that in Cosmo?” I ask snidely.
I instantly regret my snarky words. I’ve heard the same thing from various sources, but there are just as many other sources that say avoiding alcohol is best for the heart and circulatory system. Still, though… Why did Mom have to mention the fire and how it destroyed our vineyards? Our livelihood? We’ve always done more wine business than beef business.
I’m feeling pretty pissy toward my mother these days.
I breathe in and out slowly. Time to get a grip.
I squeeze Dad’s shoulder. “Don’t try to talk.”
“We’ll be eating a lot more fish.” Mom smiles, ignoring my Cosmo comment. “That salmon en croûte I made the other night turned out beautifully.”
“That’s one of your best dishes, Mom,” I say. “But you know what else is one of your best dishes? Beef stroganoff.”
“Maybe I can make it with chicken,” she says.
Dad laughs, but then he winces. “Damn. That hurts.”
“Easy, Daddy.”
“Right. But chicken stroganoff? Jesus, Maureen.”
“We will do what’s best for you, Frank.”
“Reenie…”
Uh-oh. When he calls Mom “Reenie,” he wants something.
“Yes?”
“Would you mind? I’d like to spend some time with Rory.”
That’s what he wants? To spend time alone with me? Sounds good from where I’m standing.
“Wait a minute.” Mom wrinkles her forehead. “You’re kicking me out?”
“Only for a few minutes.”
She huffs and leaves the room.
“You’re going to pay for that one,” I say to Dad.
“No. She’s so freaking scared, she won’t dare say anything to me.”
“I’m as scared as she is, Daddy.”
“I know you are, baby girl. I’m going to be all right. I promise.”
“Yeah, you will be. Did you want to talk to me about something? It can wait. I don’t want to make you talk, Dad. I know it hurts.”
“It’s okay,” he cracks out. “I’m sorry that this happened. That I had to put your mother and you kids through this.”
“None of this is your fault.”
“I know.” He sighs. “I did everything right. I don’t drink, and I eat well.”
“Maybe it’s the cigars,” I say.
“I don’t inhale the smoke, Rory.”
“Not intentionally. But the smoke is there, and some of it gets in.”
“Fine.” Dad lets out another sigh. “I’ll give up the damned cigars. You’ll be happy to know Brock didn’t like the one he had the other night.”
“Didn’t he?”
“No. He did his best, but he looked kind of green.”
I laugh. Brock Steel is such a big strong man, and the fact that he was felled by a little cigar smoke… It’s endearing.
“Speaking of Brock, I want to talk to you about him.”
“Okay. What about him?”
“I like him, Rory. I like him a lot.”
“I know that.” I smile.
“I like him because I see the way he looks at you. It’s not a look of lust, and it’s not a look of longing, even. It’s the way I look at your mother, Rory. I noticed it with Donny and Callie as well. The man loves you. Surprised the hell out of me, to be sure, but he loves you. Only a man in love recognizes that in another man.”