I nodded. “I do. I do — thank you. Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” Mr. Rush said. “And thank you for spending Christmas with us. We’re glad to have you here, Sonny.”
I smiled at him. “I’m glad I’m here, too.”
I may not have been as filled with holiday joy as Wesley (I doubted I ever would be), but if I was going to spend Christmas with anyone, there was no other family I’d rather be with.
Except, maybe, my own.
The only call I got that day wasn’t on my new cell phone: It was on the Rushes’ house phone, and it was collect.
“Yes, I’ll accept the charges,” I said, feeling a little guilty despite their insistence that they’d be okay with paying the fees when I’d originally asked them about it.
I had a feeling this was the first time the Rush house had received a call from a prison.
“Sonny?”
I hadn’t heard his voice in years, but I recognized it immediately. It was deep, but light. You could hear the smile in it. In all my memories of my father, he was always smiling.
“Hey, Dad,” I said, my own voice a tad shaky. “Merry Christmas.”
“You sound so grown-up,” he said. “You’re probably too old for me to call you Sonny Bunny now, huh?”
“Maybe a little,” I said. I was surprised by how normal he sounded. How confident and pleasant. Somehow, I’d expected prison to rob him of that. He just … didn’t sound like a criminal. “It’s been a while.”
“I know. I was so happy to get your letter.”
“You were?”
“Of course, Sonny Bunny. I’ve tried to call and write before, but I could never get in touch.”
“We moved a few years ago,” I said. “Into Granddad’s house. And Mom never got a house phone. And her cell number has changed a few times, so …”
“Your mother,” he said, a slight laugh in his voice. “She’s a piece of work.”
“Yeah … So that’s why I gave you this number. I’m at my friend’s house right now. Her parents said I could take your calls here.”
“Oh,” Dad said. “Well, tell them thank you for me.” He paused. “How is your mom, anyway?”
Time to lie.
“Great,” I said. “She’s got a good job right now and she’s seeing someone, so that’s good for her. We had a great Christmas this morning, and then I came over to my friend’s house for dinner.”
“That’s great,” Dad said. “I miss you, Sonny Bunny.”
“I miss you, too.”
I didn’t know the words were true until they left my mouth. Despite everything I’d said about him over the years, despite all the anger and hurt I felt, I’d missed him. Especially now.
“Listen,” he said. “I know you’re busy, but I’d love to see you if you ever want to come for visitation —”
“I will.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I mean, I don’t know when, but I’ll come soon.”
“That would be great, Sonny. You can come make fun of me in my very fashionable orange jumpsuit.” And even though his voice was still confident, I could sense that little touch of relief. No one else would have caught it, but I did.
I had to remind myself of that. My dad might not have sounded like a criminal, but he was one. There was no disputing that. Maybe he’d changed over the years. Maybe he wasn’t the asshole my mother had once claimed. But for all his charm, he was a liar.
Just like me.
The question was, how much was he lying about?
There was a chance that letting him back into my life was a mistake. But Ryder said Dad might surprise me if I gave him a chance, and he already had just by calling.
“You still there, Sonny Bunny?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m here. But I can only talk for a few more minutes. The phone charges are kind of …”
“I understand,” Dad said. “But, if you have a few more minutes, I’d love to learn a little more about this grown-up you.”
I smiled. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” he said.
I wouldn’t give him that. I couldn’t give anyone that. But for the next five minutes, I told him as many true things as I could.
Chapter 16
“Are you freaking kidding me?”
I slammed my fist into Gert’s steering wheel and jumped at the resounding honk! it elicited. Because, despite all logic, it had somehow surprised me.
I’d just managed to pull my piece-of-shit car onto the shoulder of the road as it groaned and creaked to a stop. But now I was stuck, stranded on the stretch of highway between Hamilton and Oak Hill on the day after Christmas.
And I was going to be late for work.
“Please just be the battery,” I muttered as I climbed from the car and went to open the hood. “Please just need a jump.”
I may have had a job now, but between gas money, Christmas presents, and buying some new winter clothes, I didn’t have the money to fix Gert. I knew the Rushes would pay for it if I asked, but I still felt guilty about letting them give me a new cell phone.
I pulled open the hood and stared down at the tangle of machinery inside, suddenly remembering that I knew absolutely nothing about cars. I wasn’t even sure why I’d popped the hood other than that was just what you were supposed to do when you were stranded on the side of the road.
“Damn,” I said, looking down at what I thought might be the battery.
I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my new cell phone, which only had a handful of numbers programmed into it. I tried Amy, but there was no answer. She’d gone to the library to work on an essay for her college applications, so maybe she’d put it on silent. Then I remembered that I hadn’t given Amy her phone back yet — it was still in my room. So I tried Wesley next.
“Hello, Sonya.”
“Not funny,” I said. “Hey, are you busy?”
“We’re just watching a movie. Why?”
I heard someone laughing in the background, and I realized he must’ve been at Bianca’s house.
“Gert’s dead.”
“Who?”
“My car.”
“Oh … okay. Where are you?”
I gave him directions and he assured me they were leaving immediately. I hung up and shoved my phone back into my pocket with a sigh.
“Damn it, Gert,” I said, resting my hand on the hood. “Get your shit together, woman.”
I dialed the bookstore’s number, but there was no answer. I was about to try again when I heard someone call out to me.
“Hey. You all right?”
I looked up and noticed a Honda slowing to a stop next to me. A guy with messy brown hair stuck his head out the window. Beyond him, I could make out a pretty brunette in the passenger’s seat. Neither of them were much older than me.
“Fine,” I said. “My car just sucks.”
He turned the Honda onto the shoulder, just a few yards in front of my car, making room for other cars to speed past us. Then he and the brunette both climbed out and started walking toward me.
I stiffened, thinking that this was exactly how every horror movie began and hoping that Amy would avenge my murder, regardless of the weirdness between us at the moment, but then I realized we were on a busy highway in broad daylight and any smarter serial-killing team would not be so careless.
“Sorry,” the brunette said, noticing the uneasy look on my face. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but I couldn’t place it. “Nathan here has a Good Samaritan complex. We promise we’re not going to, like, kidnap you.”
“That’s just what any good kidnapper would say,” I pointed out.
The girl, who was wearing a University of Kentucky sweatshirt, snorted, and her blue eyes twinkled just a bit.
“It’s not a Good Samaritan complex,” Nathan argued. “It’s called being a decent person. Try it sometime.”