11. Kyra
" H ey, Dad," I answer his call on the first ring. Rhodes is at the surf shop. I'm planted on the couch, legs stretched out, feet on the coffee table, and I've just muted the television to give him my full attention. After this call I'm going to have to make another, one to my supervisor. My release date from working with Rhodes is at the end of the week. The good news about this travel contract is that I've worked the required months and can pick up what I want here and there. Anytime I want to walk away, I'm free to go. It's just a matter of calling Tamra and telling her what I want, and then I'm going to ask if she knows of a hospital or urgent care type center that's hiring.
"Hey, Ky. Seeing how you're doing?" Dad's been trying to get me home since the moment he heard about a hurricane heading our way. He's in the same path as Rhodes and me, literally twenty or so minutes up the coast. His house is still undergoing updates. I'm not even sure if he's got doors to the bedrooms yet, let alone more than one working toilet. I'll be perfectly safe here, even though he thinks otherwise.
"I'm doing good. Watching the news. Rhodes is at Whitecaps with Kade, and I'm reading a book, but the news keeps interfering." I blow out a puff of air. The look Rhodes gave me when I picked up a book about a prominent serial killer almost had me doubling over in laughter. I'm pretty sure he thought I was crazier than the man on the front of the book. The brain has always been an interesting organ in all facets for me.
"Sounds about right. Any time there's a book in front of your face and someone or something interrupts you, the annoyance sets in." I've always lost myself in a hobby of some sort. Whatever could shut my brain down, I did—crossword puzzles, word searches, books, and even jigsaw puzzles.
"Well, think of it this way, if I were to pester you about a mundane subject while you were cleaning your guns, how would you feel?" I have in fact done this many times in the past, usually to pay him back and to irritate him. Our love language as father and daughter is to banter back and forth with one another, getting a rise out of each other. It drove my grandma batty, probably because when Grandpa would join in on the fun, it would get a bit rowdy.
"Message received loud and clear. I won't take up too much of your time. The hurricane is gaining strength and speed. Are you sure you don't want to come up here?" Dad asks. He's texted me this question so many times in the past day. I've answered with a firm no each and every time.
"I'm positive. We're good here." I don't add in anything about my relationship with Rhodes. We're not hiding it from him, not on purpose. This is new, exciting, and while there's been somewhat of a build-up, it's still fresh, which means there are things we haven't discovered about one another yet.
"It's going to be a category two, honey. Even though it's coming from the west coast, it'll still be bad. Daytona Beach isn't supposed to get it near as bad," Dad tries to persuade me yet again. I'm going to have to shut this down, or I'm going to lose my tongue and anger will fly out of my mouth.
"Dad, I love you, but I'm staying here. Technically, I'm still working for Rhodes, which means I stay with my patient. We both know the likelihood of him coming up to your place is extremely low." I'm hoping that will be enough to deter him from asking again. I can say with every depth of my being that Rhodes wouldn't leave his house unless there's a reason.
"Fine, you can't blame an old man for worrying and trying. I've missed a lot of years with you, and I'm not thrilled with the idea of you traveling all over Florida or more now that you're grown." Dad still carries guilt from his time away before we left Mom. I know it ate at him, killed him inside that he didn't see the truth. No one blamed him, not even me. You can't fix what you don't know is broken. She put up a great front when she needed to, like when Dad was home. Then he'd leave, and it'd go back to the same thing. I only realized Mom's behavior wasn't normal after I started going to therapy.
I do remember my dad being solely focused on me anytime he was stateside. There'd be dates at the park, which turned into dinner and movies at the theatre, and when it came time to start dating, things got tricky. Dad and Grandpa had no problem standing at the door, eyeing my date up and down, using their military background to make anyone shake in their boots.
"Well, about that. I'm not sure if I'll take another travel contract. It's been nice staying in one place for a while. Though, no doctor's offices." I did a stint at one, and I knew after the first week that I needed more excitement. An adrenaline rush and being kept on my toes. I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree in that aspect.
"Thank you. There is a god," Dad says in a prayer-like tone. Clearly, he's a happy camper. I knew he would be. Next up will be a call from the grandparents telling me it's about damn time. They're getting up there in years, a fact they state anytime we're on the phone, and while they now live in a retirement community, they're still as busy as ever. There will be days when I don't hear from them after calling a few days in a row. They'd finally return my call, saying they had bingo, then a luau, and even went on a boat to gamble on international waters.
"Tell me how you really feel," I joke.
"You don't need me to do that. You already know." I'm about to respond when my phone starts buzzing in my ear.
"Hey, Dad, hold on a second." He makes some kind of noise in the back of his throat, and I place him on speaker phone. I swipe up to get out of the phone call and look at my texts.
Lo: Hey, girl, you got a second?
Me: Hey, girl, hey! I've got all the time in the world for you. Is everything okay?
"It's Lauren. Stay on the phone, please. She'll usually call me instead of text." Lo lives in the middle of the two of us but further inland.
"Not a problem. You're doing me a favor. After we hang up, my next call would be to her."
Lo: Mandatory evacuation. I'm in a flood zone. Who freaking knew?
Me: Do you have somewhere to go?
"Dad, don't hate me." Lauren's on her own, minus Chadwick the dick wick.
"Oh fuck, what are you getting me into now?" He pretends to sound put off.
Lo: A hotel?
Me: Absolutely not. Give me one minute.
"Lauren is in a flood zone. They're making her evacuate, a mandatory type of situation. Her only option is a hotel. Can she please stay with you? Pretty please with a cherry on top? I'll make sure it's only her and not her ass wipe of a boyfriend." I talk a million miles a minute, getting it all out, and then my thumbs are hammering out a text without waiting for a response.
Me: Go to Dad's. He's got plenty of room. I can't tell you the state of his house, but he's not in a flood zone, so you'll be safe.
"Does she need a ride?" He doesn't even miss a beat.
Lo: Is he sure?
Me: He's positive, asking if you need a ride.
"Waiting on a response now. I'm going to go with no. You know how she is with her car. Where she goes, her car goes."
Lo: Nope, packing my car now and heading out.
Me: Where is the name that shall not be named staying?
Lo: FUCK HIM.
"She good?" Dad asks after I stay silent a moment too long.
"Oh yeah, she might have a broken heart or be in her man-hater stage, though." I hate that Lauren is going through this without me.
"Not worried about that. Tell her to send me a text or call when she's on her way. Gonna let you go. Love you, Ky."
"Love you, Dad. Thanks for taking care of Lo." We hang up, and I get back to my best friend.
Me: We're going to talk about this, whenever you're ready. Dad said to call or text when you're on your way.
Lo: I will, promise.
I toss my phone on the couch, close my eyes, and try not to worry about Lo and what she is or isn't going through. This week is really throwing me for a loop. I take a deep breath and wait impatiently for Rhodes to come home.