Hit the Spot

“Would you please call your father and tell him he needs to make an appointment with his doctor? He’s refusing to listen to me.”

My mother sounded at the end of her rope. Her voice was tight and high-pitched.

She’d been arguing with my father about this last night, too, while I was there.

“Is he still having heartburn?” I asked, pushing the door open and stepping inside the lounge.

“If that’s what it even is, and I’m not convinced. He hasn’t been eating anything spicy.” she replied. “I’m thinking he’ll listen to you, pumpkin. Just try for me, will you? He worries me.”

“Okay. I’ll call him now. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Thanks, baby girl.”

“Sure, Mom. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

I disconnected the call and dialed my father’s cell, knowing he was probably out in the factory right now and not at his desk, considering he hated being cooped up in that office.

It was newly renovated, came equipped with its own private gym, and had a spectacular view of downtown Raleigh.

I could see why he hated it.

“Your mother called you, didn’t she?” he answered with a smile in his voice.

I laughed. “Can’t blame her for getting creative. You know how she is.” I looked at the clock on the wall. “What’s going on, Daddy? You’re still not feeling good?”

“Feeling fine, princess. Just a little heartburn. Nothing a few Tums can’t knock out.”

“You sure that’s all it is? Maybe you should go see the doctor just in case—”

“No need,” he cut me off short.

My father hated going to the doctor. He hadn’t been to one in over twenty years.

“They’re just gonna run some tests that aren’t necessary and give me pills I don’t even need. I know how they operate,” he argued. “No thank you. I’ll stick with my Tums.”

The door to the lounge swung open.

I turned my head and watched Jamie stride into the room, looking like he’d just stepped out of the water and off the beach.

Hair saltwater damp and board shorts on. Thank Christ he was wearing a shirt.

And the board shorts. I did not need my memory jogged.

I gave him a look after the door closed behind him, signifying he wasn’t allowed back here.

He gave me a look back, signifying he didn’t give a fuck about where he was or wasn’t allowed. Then he leaned his shoulder against a locker and pulled out his phone, looking down and messing with it.

Apparently he was waiting me out. Terrific.

I went back to my phone call.

“They aren’t a cure-all, Daddy. And it might not even be heartburn that’s giving you chest pain. Did you think about that?”

“It’s heartburn,” my father argued. “I know what it feels like. Been dealing with it for years.”

“I think you need to go see a doctor to rule out anything more serious.”

Jamie’s eyes came up then. He looked at the phone I was holding.

“Love you, princess, but I’m gonna tell you what I told your mother. Doctors are for sick people, and I’m not sick.”

“But you could be sick.” My hand came up and started gesturing. I was getting impatient. “You could have, I don’t know, heart issues or something. You don’t know!”

“If the Tums stop working, I’ll look into making an appointment. Until then, quit worrying about your old man. I’m as healthy as a horse.”

I inhaled a deep breath, nodding. He was right. He was healthy. Had a little extra weight on him, but that didn’t seem to slow him down.

Aside from the heartburn bringing this conversation on, my father never had anything wrong with him, which was one of the reasons he hadn’t been to the doctor in so many years. There was no need for it.

“All right,” I sighed, looking back to the clock on the wall and checking the time. “I’d really feel better if you got this looked at, but if you promise you’ll go see someone if the Tums stop working, I guess that’s good, too.”

“Have my word, princess. I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

“Gotta get back to work.”

“Me, too.”

“Love you, princess.”

I smiled. “Love you, too.”

Jamie straightened from the locker as I slipped my phone away. He jerked his chin at me, asking, “Your dad sick?”

He sounded genuinely concerned. As if he actually knew my father himself.

“Uh.” I blinked. This was weird. “No. Not really. He’s just having a lot of heartburn.”

“Won’t go get it checked out?”

“My father doesn’t do doctors.”

Jamie smiled a little. “I see where you get your stubbornness,” he said.

I grabbed my hips, telling him, “I hope you’re not expecting to get a table anytime soon. We’re slammed, if you didn’t notice.”

“Not stayin’. Got work shit to do.”

I blinked. “Oh.”

I wanted to sound surprised. Pleased. Elated. Jamie wasn’t staying. This was great for me. But my “Oh” came out sounding disappointed.

The hell?

Jamie’s smile grew hearing this disappointment.

Shit.

“Well, good,” I quickly added, wanting to shut down that smile. “What are you doing here then?” ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">