Not Our Summer by Casie Bazay (best ebook reader for ubuntu .TXT) 📕

and then I could take her back to her house.” She stops, realizing the error of her words. “Or she could drive it to wherever you’re staying.”

“I’m staying at Carter’s,” I say, staring straight ahead, but I’m not one hundred percent sure I want to go back there.

“Oh,” Mom says, though she doesn’t sound completely surprised.

I look at the time on the dash. “Crap, I’m supposed to be at work in thirty minutes.”

“Work?” Mom glances my way, definitely surprised this time.

“I work at Reynold’s Auto Parts now.”

Her gaze shifts to the dirty shirt I’d had to put back on in order to leave the hospital. “Oh, so that’s why you’re wearing that.”

I quickly Google their number and call the store, telling Doug about my situation. He asks when I think I’ll be able to come back in.

“Um, I’m not sure…” I tell him. “I’ll let you know as soon as I can, though.” When I hang up, I have a feeling that I’ve lost my job already, but maybe it’s for the best.

We arrive at the rodeo grounds to find my car safe and sound in the middle of the empty field. Psycho, as well as all the other livestock, are all gone now, much to my relief. I did not want to see him again. In fact, I don’t want to see another bull as long as I live. I hand Becka my keys and she hops out.

Mom takes it slow as we leave, but I still wince as we drive over a series of ruts. The rough ground is hell on my cracked rib. Becka follows behind us in my car. Mom pushes her hair behind one ear, giving me a nervous glance. “So… where to?”

I’m still not sure where I want to go, but somehow the idea of being laid up on Carter and Dax’s couch watching talk shows or video games all day sounds less than appealing. “Home, I guess… for now.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see a slight smile pulling at Mom’s lips. “Alrighty.”

We don’t talk for the rest of the drive home, but I can feel a small shift in things between us. Like maybe I’m slightly less pissed at her now. Or maybe I’m just too tired and uncomfortable to care. I lay my head back on the headrest and close my eyes, not opening them again until we pull into the mobile home park. Becka parks my car next to Mom’s.

“You staying here?” she asks as I open my door and try to find the least painful way of getting out.

I nod. “Yeah, think I need to go lie down.”

I finally manage to get out, and we both stand there for a moment, like we’re not sure if a hug is in order or not. Then Becka just waves and takes my place in the front seat. “Take care, K. J. I’ll check on you later.”

I creep up the porch stairs, trying my best not to jar my broken rib. Only after Mom and Becka back out of the drive does the strangeness of this whole situation strike me. For the first time in my life, there’s not a humongous freaking wall dividing my family, and I’m not sure how to feel about that.

The house smells mildly of lemon disinfectant and that floral carpet freshener Mom likes to use. She’s probably been cleaning like crazy since I’ve been gone. I’m not sure what will happen now that I’m back, but I’ll dwell on that later. Right now, I’m beat. I grab a Dr Pepper and a bag of potato chips from the kitchen and settle onto the couch. I’m about to turn on the TV when my phone rings on the end table beside me. I don’t know the number but answer just in case it’s someone from the hospital with lab results or something like that.

“Katherine?” an unfamiliar male voice asks.

“Yes?”

“Um, hi. It’s Sam. Your, uh, father.”

Well, that’s definitely not who I was expecting. My eyes go wide and my voice catches in my throat as I try to mumble any word in the English language.

“I heard you were in the hospital, and I just wanted to call and check on you.”

A million questions are running through my mind, like, “Why now?” or “Why do you even care?” But instead I clear my throat and just say, “Uh huh,” like a dummy.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” At least I can manage words now.

We’re both quiet for several seconds. I have no clue what to say to the man who has been missing for my entire life.

“So—” he gives a nervous chuckle “—I don’t know where to begin really, but I’d love to meet you. You have no idea how often I’ve thought of you over the years.”

“Oh yeah?” I wish I could think of something better or more profound to say.

“Could I maybe take you to lunch one day? After you’re feeling up to it, that is?”

I rack my brain for excuses but can’t seem to think of any. I could just say “No, I don’t want to,” but my vocal cords defy me again. “I guess.” I run a palm down the side of my face.

“Oh. Oh, good.” He actually sounds excited and nervous, like he didn’t expect me to agree to this, but hell, I didn’t expect to give in so easily either. “That would be great. Maybe next weekend? Or if that’s too soon, we can plan another time.”

“What about Becka?” I blurt out. “Can she come, too?”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I just…” He doesn’t have to say it. I already know what he’s thinking.

“We get along now. It’s fine. I’d like her to be there with me.” As I say this, I realize Becka must have gone ahead and given Sam my number, but I’m not really mad about it.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Both my daughters.” He seems to choke on that last word—like he’s still trying to get a handle on all of this,