Page 37 of The Write Track
“Nothing you need to worry yourself with. I just thought it would be nice to spend time with my son.”
What a load of crap. He was probably gearing up for another long spiel about how I was a terrible kid and I’d disappointed him on every level. He would try to get me to do something productive with my life, even though I’d never asked the man for a dime other than for my college tuition.
“I’ll have to get back to you,” was all I managed. “I have to look at the schedule.”
“When do you think that will be?”
I gave him the answer he wanted. “Just as soon as I can.”
BRODY FOUND ME STANDING OVER MYsuitcase shortly after seven o’clock. We left for the retreat tomorrow, and I wasn’t yet packed.
“I came over for a drink,” Brody complained when he saw the mess. “How are you not ready yet?”
I pinned him with a dark look. “Um, how are you ready?”
“I’m always ready.”
“Yes, you are a bit of an uppity pain. You probably put your packing list together weeks ago.”
Brody’s cheeks flushed with color, but he didn’t respond.
“Sorry,” I said automatically.
It wasn’t Brody’s fault I was annoyed. No, that was because of somebody else entirely.
“My father called.”
“Ah.” Understanding dawned on Brody’s features. He had a difficult father too. He knew how it went. “What did he want?”
“He wants to come visit.”
“Seriously?” Brody’s nose wrinkled as he considered it. “That doesn’t sound like him. What do you think he wants?”
“Nothing good.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him that I would get back to him once I have a look at my schedule.”
“And are you going to get back to him?”
I snorted. “No. He’ll forget all about me in five minutes and schedule something else. It will be fine.”
Brody’s hesitation caused me to drop the boxer shorts I was eyeing. “What?” I demanded.
“It’s just, my father has always been as bad as your father. It’s one of the things we bonded over.”
“So?”
“So my father and I have been getting along better lately.”
True. Brody and his father weren’t spending time together every Sunday bonding over football and beers, but they had been making an effort to spend more time together of late. It seemed to be going well.
“We don’t all get a new father when we hit the age of thirty,” I replied on a sigh. “He’s never going to change.”
“Okay.” Brody held up his hands in supplication. “I get it. Trust me. I understand. What I don’t understand is this.” He gestured toward the open suitcase. “How can you have two pairs of boxer shorts packed, and that’s it?”
“I have a brand-new toothbrush ready to go too.” I grinned at him, knowing my disorganization would drive him crazy, then sighed. “It’s not a big deal. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to pack for a camping trip.”
