How (Not) to Fall in Love(91)

A ferocious squeal of tires and brakes froze me in place.





Chapter Thirty-Six


“Run,” I told myself, so I did, as fast as I could through the snow-packed streets.

A car had spun out in the middle of the road. The driver stood in the road looking confused.

“What happened?” I was breathless and frantic as I stopped next to him.

He turned to me, his face worried. “I’m not sure. I was driving and suddenly this guy appeared out of nowhere, right in front of me.” He swallowed. “If I hadn’t swerved, I would’ve hit him for sure.”

“Did you see a dog?”

He looked at me, his eyes still wide with anxiety. “A dog? No. Just the man.”

“Which way did he run?”

“That way.” He pointed toward the highway.

Crap. I took off, fear making me run like the wind.

There was no traffic where the road met the entrance ramp to the highway. “Dad!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Toby!” Soft whimpering met my ears. Toby. Oh God. I turned toward the sound.

“Toby? Toby!”

The whimpering grew louder. I ran down an embankment next to the highway. Dad lay on the ground not moving. Toby lay next to him, licking him, whimpering and scared. I sank down next to them.

Crap, crap, crap.

“Are you hurt? Dad, what happened?”

He rolled over and looked up at me. “Not hurt.” He closed his eyes. “Leave me, Darcy. Just leave me here. Take the dog and go.”

Like a match thrown into kerosene, my fear morphed, roaring into a raging fire of anger. “God damn you! No, I will not leave you here. I just found you! Who the hell do you think you are? Do you have any idea what we’ve…been through…” Sobs racked my body again. Toby scooted next to me and licked the tears from my face. I grabbed him and pulled him close.

“You are coming home. With me. Now. Don’t you dare move. I’m going to get the truck.” I stood up and pointed at Toby. “Stay, Toby. Don’t move.” I glared at Dad. “You either.”

I ran as fast as I could back to the truck and drove like I was possessed back to the highway entrance. I pulled off onto the shoulder and ran down the embankment. Neither of them had moved.

“Come on.” I leaned down and tugged on Dad’s arm. Toby nudged him, whimpering.

He struggled to a sitting position. “Christ, you don’t give up, do you?” He looked up at me, scowling.

“Got it from you. Come on. Mom’s waiting.”

He dropped his eyes. “I can’t face her.”

“You can and you will.” I tugged harder. Finally, he staggered to his feet. I pulled his arm around my shoulders and had a vision of Lucas helping my mom stagger through our house.

“One step at a time. The truck’s at the top of the hill.”

We climbed slowly, not speaking. Toby panted with anxiety, running back and forth from us to the truck. Once we were settled into the truck, I turned to face him. “Don’t think of trying that again. I’m not even stopping to let you pee, Dad. We’re going straight home.”

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the seat, saying nothing. Toby collapsed across his lap again as we drove.

“It’s a lie, Darcy. All of it.” Dad’s voice startled me after miles of silence.

“What are you talking about?”

“Harvest. My big inspirational story, my brush with death. It never happened.”

My hands shook on the steering wheel. I turned to look at him. His eyes met mine. They pooled with tears, but they were focused. He looked like my dad again.

“It was J.J.’s idea to…to pump up the story. I was sick, but we always knew I’d recover. Death was never breathing down my neck. But it made a better story.”

I slowed the truck to fifty miles an hour. It took all my energy to drive and listen to him at the same time.

“J.J. said it didn’t matter as long as people were still inspired by the Harvest message, and it helped them.” Dad cried quietly next to me, then he spoke again. “It was last summer. June maybe? I can’t remember. I went to the children’s hospital in Omaha, after my show there. The director was in the audience. He called, asking me to visit some of the kids.”

Toby shifted in Dad’s lap. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dad’s grip tighten around Toby as he rubbed his ears. It was like watching myself when I was scared.

“So I went,” Dad continued. “The director took me on a tour.” Dad’s voice caught. He choked out the next words between sobs. “I’d done hospital visits before. But something was different this time. There was this little girl…” His voice trailed away, then he looked at me. His voice was a whisper. “She reminded me of you. Something about her eyes.”

I swallowed, not daring to interrupt him.

“He…he…told…those kids that I’d been where they had. That I’d almost died. But that I’d made it.” Sobs racked his body. “He told them to…to listen to me.” His whole body heaved next to me. “But when I…when I was supposed to talk…I couldn’t…couldn’t think of anything to say. I couldn’t tell any more lies.”

I eased the car onto the shoulder of the road and turned on the hazard lights so no one would crash into us in the dark.