Unbreak My Heart by Lorelei James Read Free Book Online Page B

She never had.
    After taking the stairs to the first floor, I cut across the blacktop to a small grassy area with a stone bench. What rocket scientist decided it’d be a great idea to plant grass in the damn desert? With time to kill, I checked my cell phone and saw that my dad had called again. With only a seven-minute window before Sierra pulled up, the callback couldn’t go long and I’d be done with it. I dialed and immediately began to pace.
    He answered with a gruff, “Hello.”
    “Hey Dad.”
    “I started to think you wouldn’t call me back. It’s been a few weeks.”
    You don’t get to lay a guilt trip on me, old man. “Life is busy and all that. What’s up?”
    “Chet told me you were in Wyoming.”
    “I spent two weeks working at the clinic in Sundance. Now I’m in Phoenix.”
    “Chet was pretty vague about your plans. So was Remy when I asked him.” He paused. “My brothers have always looked out for you.”
    They wouldn’t have had to if you would’ve stepped up and done your parental duty.
    “That’s always surprised me,” he continued. “Growing up, they had their own little world. I never fit in. And our folks were…”
    Goddamned apathetic. My grandparents had the same level of interest in me as their son had—near zero.
    “Whatever. Did you really call me to talk about my uncles?”
    “No. But I want to talk to you about some stuff.” He coughed.
    “Are you sick?” I said sharply.
    “Nah. Always been a point of pride I became a workaholic, not an alcoholic. Then one day I woke up and realized that too much work has the same effect as too much booze. I’d lived twenty-eight years of my life in an absolute fog.”
    An uneasy feeling took root. “Did Chet and Remy put you up to this?”
    “Nope. Look, this ain’t a conversation to have over the phone.”
    He swallowed so loudly I heard it and my stomach pitched.
    “If you’ve got any…patience with or forgiveness in your heart for your fucked-up old man, I’d like to meet with you.”
    Say no. Tell him it’s too little, too late.
    But it wasn’t. I wasn’t that lonely, sad boy whose Daddy missed his every major life event. Now I understood things weren’t always what they seemed. And hard choices were called that for a reason. Also, I’d built a damn good bullshit meter. If his explanations sounded like excuses offered out of delayed guilt, I’d know it.
    “Boone?”
    “Yeah, I’m here. Just thinking.” I exhaled. “Where and when do you want to meet?”
    “I’ve gotta drop a load in Flagstaff sometime in the next month or so. Could you meet me there? If not, I can drive into Phoenix.”
    “Flagstaff will be fine.”
    “Thank you.”
    Silence.
    As I started to remind him that if his plans changed and he had to back out—which happened more often than not—he returned to the line, his tone gruffer than before.
    “I ain’t gonna cancel on you, Boone. Not this time. You’ve got no reason to trust in my promises after all the times I broke them, but I have changed. I’d like you to give me a chance to prove it.”
    That defensive shield I’d honed popped up automatically. I said, “We’ll see,” without conscious thought.
    “Looking forward to seeing you. It’s been too long. Take care.”
    I punched the end button and checked the timer on the screen. The conversation, at three minutes and eighteen seconds, was the longest I’d ever had with my dad on the phone. Even when I’d lived at home, he called to pass on the most basic information and hung up. I hadn’t seen him since my graduation from basic training. I’d invited him more out of obligation than anything and I hadn’t expected him to show up. But he’d been there in the bleachers alongside my uncles Chet and Remy.
    My mom’s claim of being too broke to come was probably the truth, but even if she’d just won the lottery she would’ve skipped it. Since she and my dad hadn’t married, the three of us had never been a family unit.