Page 21 of Under Water
“Rune, honey. You know I’m sorry that—”
“I know.” I clear my throat. “It’s not your fault, Mom.”
“I should have been watching closer. He shouldn’t have been able to sneak out. I was just so tired, and—”
“Mom.” She falls quiet. “I’m not blaming you, okay? I’m sorry I was such an ass last night and avoided your calls. We need to start rethinking everything for him. He needs more than school and PT and doctor’s appointments.”
“He does,” she says quietly.
“We need to figure out how he can go down the street to the corner store and get a soda, or go feed the ducks without some 911 call.” I pass a hand down my face. “And I need to get divorced.”
“You do. You should know he’s been by here twice this morning.”
My entire body stiffens, and the back of my throat gets hot. “Did you speak with him?”
“Your dad checked the doorbell camera and told him to fuck off.”
I smile. My parents aren’t perfect, but fuck, I love them a lot. “I’ll handle it. I’m sorry he’s causing drama again.”
“It’ll be over soon enough. Maybe if you can keep him in town long enough to get him served, we can take care of it this time.”
I tried that before too, but maybe the fifteenth time’s the charm. “I’ll see what I can do. Anyway, I was just stepping out for a breath of fresh air. I’m gonna head back in and check on the tiny person who will be the root cause of my heart problems.”
She laughs. “Tell him he’s getting grounded for this.”
I know for a fact that she’s lying. “Sure thing. Good luck with that. Love you.”
“Love you,” she says right as I cut off the call and shove my phone back into my pocket.
With a deep breath, I drag my fingers through my hair, then turn to walk toward the doors when suddenly, a figure comes around the corner. He’s tall, dark hair, tan skin. I’m a little too on edge and ready for a fight when I realize that the man’s wearing an EMT uniform.
And that I know him.
“Rune!” Logan’s always such a friendly guy. He jogs over and yanks me in for a hug. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
I might as well just fucking spill at this point. I don’t actually think Easton will tell everyone the call last night was my kid, but there were more people than just him on the scene. I’m surprised Logan doesn’t already know.
“Yeah. My son, uh—” I cock my thumb toward the doors. “Little incident at the park last night.” I give him a slow up and down. “You doing an EMT shift?”
His cheeks darken a bit, and he shrugs. “Yeah. Training. I, ah…I put in for a full-time transfer. I might still pick up other shifts, but…but I think this is a better fit.”
He says all that like he’s almost ashamed, and my brows dip into a frown. “Is anyone giving you shit about it?”
He lets out the smallest laugh. “Nah, man. Everyone’s been super cool and supportive. Well—” He shrugs. “—dicks too, but nothing new about that.”
Yeah. They use shit-talking as a love language, and it’s been a while since I’ve been an integral part of it, but I remember it like it was yesterday. And fuck, I really miss it sometimes.
“Anyway, I just saw you and got worried.”
He really is a sweet guy.
“All quiet on the whatever front,” I say.
“Western,” he mutters, then blushes again. “Sorry.”
“Canadian.” Socking him in the arm, I take a step back. “Listen, I don’t mean to be an ass, but my kid is upstairs, so I’d better run.”
He nods, then holds up a hand and digs so deep in his pocket he has to be grazing his balls. A second later, he pulls out a half-squished protein bar. “Here. I know you’re not going to eat properly.”
