“You were snoring like a bear,” I pointed out.
“Doesn’t mean it was good sleep,” he said before sipping his coffee. Steam circled up from the mug, dancing around his nose. “What’s got you up so early?”
I shrugged and finished off my own coffee.
“Don’t shut down, Pumpkin.” Dad smiled. He’d called me Pumpkin since I could remember. I asked why once, he’d said I was his perfect creation, and he loved pumpkin everything. “You know the rules.”
“‘No judgment zones here’, I know.” I set my mug on the small plastic table between us. “Dylan recorded me singing ‘Walk Away’ and made a video out of it. He posted it online.”
“That’s great.” Dad drained his mug. “So why the long face?”
Good question. I wasn’t entirely sure I knew the answer. It nagged at me.
“Pumpkin?” Dad prodded after I didn’t answer for several seconds.
“It’s just...” I blew out my breath. The best place to start was the beginning. And it was easier if I didn’t look at him. The breeze swayed the top of the trees. I focused on that instead. “Did I tell you Hank Walker didn’t want me as a backup?”
Dad nodded. “Yeah, it was Dylan.”
“Exactly, so why? He’s said it’s my voice, but I wonder if it’s just to piss off his father.” I turned to face Dad. “And I didn’t agree to this video. I mean, I agreed to him recording us singing, but ... It’s okay and everything I guess. It’s really cool, actually. I don’t know. It’s ... I feel like he’s using me.”
“Maybe he is,” Dad said. He grinned. “Maybe he’s not. You need to figure that out for sure. Let’s just say he is using you to piss off Hank, would this video help your dreams?”
That was another great question. “I suppose it could. I always wanted to start a YouTube channel. A lot of people get discovered that way.”
“And Dylan’s already done the work.” Dad’s hand shook and the mug fell to the concrete, breaking the handle. “Damn it.”
“I got it, Dad.” I picked up the pieces. The handle broke off clean, but the lip of the cup was chipped. I could fix the handle.
“But you shouldn’t have to,” Dad muttered. His eyes darkened.
“It’s not a big deal.” I put my hand on his knee, hoping to draw him back out. That look on his face, it was scary. I’d seen it more and more lately. “You want another cup?”
Dad nodded, but his gaze clouded over as he stared off into the distance. I wanted to say something to make him feel better, but I didn’t think there was anything I could say. He closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. If only I knew what to do to fix this for him.
I hurried inside. There wasn’t anything I could say at this point. He’d already gone inside himself. I left the sliding door cracked open. Mom stood at the kitchen sink in her old bathrobe.
“Hey, Mom,” I said as I walked toward her. “You’re up early.”
“I could say the same for you.” She half-smiled. Her hair was uncombed and her last night’s makeup smeared across her face. “Your dad okay?”
I popped a pod into the machine and put a fresh mug under it. “Not really. It was good at first—”
“Until he dropped the mug?” Mom reached in front of me and pressed the button to start the coffee. “He’s been doing that more. Getting the shakes.”
“Is he going to be okay?” I whispered.
Mom put her arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. “I don’t know, baby. He’s got an appointment this morning.”
“He didn’t say anything.” I pulled back to look her in the eye.
“He doesn’t know,” she said. “I called last week after his hand shook so hard he knocked the remotes off the arm of his chair. He’s been trying to hide it, but Jake’s noticed it too. It could be his medication. Could be something else. A stroke messes with you.”
“But that was a long time ago.” Tears filled my eyes. Nothing else could be wrong.
“Yes, it was.” Mom grabbed my shoulders and stared into my eyes. “Cameron, you can’t worry about this. I know that’s asking a lot of you and your brother. You’ve both done so much for this family. I need you to worry about you right now. I’ll take care of your father.”
“But—”
“No buts. I’ve got this.” She smiled sadly. “For better or worse, I made that vow. This is just the worse.”
“I don’t want anything else to happen to him,” I whispered.
“Neither do I.” Mom hugged me tight. The last time she held me like this was when she told me about Dad’s stroke. She was scared.
So was I.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I texted Dylan to beg off for the day. Instead, I hid in my room to avoid everything. Dad wasn’t happy when Mom said they were going to the doctor’s office. I didn’t hear the conversation, but the tone of Dad’s voice made it clear he was pissed she hadn’t told him about it until it was time to leave.
My phone dinged a text message just after the door closed.
Tickets? Iris added a smiley face emoji. She followed it with another text. Got a hot date.
She had balls to ask me for tickets. Ask Miranda.
Miranda’s gone off the deep end. This thing with Eddie has pushed her. Iris sent another rapid fire text. She’s hooking up with any guy who even smiles at her.
I started to respond when another text came through.
She said she even hooked up with Dylan. ???
I closed my eyes. The image of Miranda kissing Dylan was seared into my brain. She kissed him. I don’t know about anything else. None of my business anyway.
Thought you liked him? Iris sent back. Then she added. Or does he not like you? I’m confused.
Something about this felt off suddenly. I stopped responding and read through the thread. It had started off innocent enough, but she never
