It’s strange to think that all this time, Skylar had been living in a different city, building an entirely new life for herself. And now, she has a new man to go with it. By all accounts, Skylar sounds happy, healthy, and seems to be thriving. As one of my closest and dearest friends, that’s all I could ever want for her.
It’s early on a Wednesday when I pull into my dad’s driveway to drop Jake off before heading to work. Jake’s been going on about some girl in his kindergarten class who’s been giving him grief over his newfound obsession with bread—his latest fixation after his class explored different types of bread from around the world for multicultural week.
According to my son, this Penelope girl has been calling him ‘Airy-fairy’ ever since he brought fairy bread to school for his class last week. When I asked if it bothered him, he just shrugged and said,‘It doesn’t bother me, Dad. She’s just mad she missed out.’And that was that. No further explanation. No further argument. Truth be told, it takes a lot to upset my boy. He’s as tough and thick-skinned as the rest of us Hawkins’ men.
I carefully help Jake out of his booster seat, and the moment his feet touch the ground, he takes off towards the front door,where my dad is standing there waiting. Grabbing his overnight bag from the back seat, I lock the car and follow him inside.
The smell of onions and sausages instantly hit me as I step through the doorway, reminding me that it’s been fourteen hours since I’ve last eaten anything.
We walk into the kitchen, where my dad is back to flipping sausages in the pan. I drop Jake’s bag on one of the bar stools at the kitchen island and breathe in the delicious scent of sizzling meat. “Smells good. I might grab some for the road, if that’s okay?”
“Help yourself. I made plenty for everyone,” my dad says, as he begins to assemble our sausage sizzle sandwiches.
Jake hops onto one of the other bar stools, watching intently as my dad layers onions, a sausage, and tomato sauce into a bread roll. “Hey, Grandad? Is that brioche or just a plain white hotdog roll?”
My dad and I exchange a look.This kid!
“It’s Brioche, bud. Just like you requested.”
My son smiles and nods. “Good stuff, Grandad,” he sing-songs, making me shake my head with a chuckle.
Placing my hand on his shoulder, I lean down and kiss the top of his head. “Well, I gotta get to work now, kiddo. Be good, okay?”
He nods and digs straight into the sausage sizzle my dad just placed in front of him.
A couple of minutes later, my dad hands me over two rolls wrapped in aluminium foil. I thank him as I take them.
“Before you go, can I have a quick word?” he whispers to me.
Curious, I frown, but nod anyway. After telling Jake he’ll be back in a minute, I follow my dad to the front door.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Everything is okay. Although, I did bump into Chris last night at the shops and he said he’s worried about you after what wentdown at the restaurant a week and a half ago. Care to explain what that was all about?”
I let out a heavy sigh, not wanting to tell my old man—a retired Senior Sergeant—that I wanted to beat the living shit out of a guy I suspect is abusing the woman I have feelings for. Instead, I tell him a different version of the truth. “I had an altercation with a guy who I believe is putting the safety of someone close to me at risk.”
My dad crosses his arms, his expression stoic. “Hmm…” He nods slowly. “Sounds serious. I’m proud of you for sticking up for your friend and all, but, son, did you really have to cause a bloody ruckus in your own workplace, in front of your customers and staff?”
“Yeah, I didn’t really think that part through,” I admit, rubbing the back of my neck.
“I did regret not waiting until I was off premises, but I’m not sorry for putting that prick in his place.”
My dad lets out a low chuckle. “I get it. I’d probably do the same. Especially if it involved a woman I had feelings for,” he says with a slight smirk on his face.
“What did you just say?”
“Huh?” he replies nonchalantly.
“Don’t play dumb, old man. What makes you think I did this for a woman?”
“Jason.” He gives me a knowing look. “I think you forget how well I know you sometimes. There’s no way you’d cause a scene like that if it was over Kaden or Chris. You only ever react that way when it involves a woman you really like and care about.”
Dammit.I should’ve known nothing ever gets past my dad. His ability to read people is uncanny—almost freaky sometimes.
When I stay silent, he takes it as confirmation that he’s right on the mark.
He pats me on the shoulder, offering something that almost resembles a smile—a rare sight from a man like Jim Hawkins. “It’s okay, son. You’ve got that protective instinct just like your old man. But next time you want to play hero for Jake’s babysitter, try not to get yourself into any trouble.”
