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Dad.
I closed my eyes, savoring it. Cam had called me that on the phone. She’d called me that in the grocery store, too. She said it so easily, as if she’d never considered calling me Joel or Red.
A moment later, I felt Abby’s hand cover mine. Even with my eyes closed, I knew it was her. I recognized the way she smoothed her thumb over my knuckles, the perfect fit of her slim, gentle fingers between my thick, calloused ones.
“Hey there, tough guy,” she whispered. “Cam said you were awake.”
Slowly, I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at her. Abby smiled back at me with Cam peering over her shoulder. The rest of the hospital room was blurry and indistinct. I couldn’t discern any details beyond pale walls and a pale bed, lights that were too bright, and the hulking dark shape of a television crouched in the corner.
But Abby and Cam were clear as day.
“You have a concussion,” Abby said. “Some cracked ribs and severe bruising, but you’ll live.”
“You were a badass,” Cam said with a grin.
“Don’t follow my example,” I croaked. I shifted in bed with a wince and decided against moving for the time being. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”
“We’re fine,” Cam replied. “You’re the one who has a face that looks like hamburger meat.”
“Cam,” Abby hissed in admonishment and a stern look.
Cam shrugged. “What? It’s true.”
“I don’t care about my face,” I said. “I’m just glad you two are okay. Any word on the Howlers?”
“They’re gone,” Abby said. “Tyson Acosta is in jail. He’ll be there for a long time. The rest of his club turned tail and ran, according to Brewer. Your club is in the waiting room, by the way. They refused to budge until they knew you were out of the woods. Would you like me to send them in?”
I shook my head carefully and squeezed her hand.
“Stay. A few more minutes.”
Abby nodded and brought my hand up to her mouth, kissing our interlaced fingers. She wouldn’t stop staring at me, her gaze roaming over my face with studious determination.
“Do I really look that bad?” I asked, my voice hoarse.
“No,” Abby replied, brushing her knuckles against my cheek. “I was thinking how much you’ve changed over the years.”
I huffed a dry, wheezing laugh.
“Is that the polite, diplomatic, Abby-way of saying I’m starting to look old?”
“Imeant,” Abby said with a look that saidenough of your sarcasm. “You look good, Joel.”
I fell silent, not knowing what to say. She turned and whispered something to Cam who moved to a chair on the other side of the room.
“Cam and I have been talking while you were asleep,” Abby said. “You’ll be in the hospital under observation for a few days. In the meantime, we thought you might like something to keep you occupied.”
Cam returned with a large, thick book hugged to her chest. When Abby nodded, Cam set the book on my lap. Across the top, it read FAMILY PHOTO ALBUM.
“Mom said I couldn’t take out my embarrassing baby pictures.”
Slowly, reverently, I traced one fingertip over the letters of the photo album.
“I thought we could get you up to speed,” Abby said. She took in a deep breath and let it out, clutching my hand like her life depended on it. “You can review the last sixteen years of me and Cam. And then…you could help us fill in the remaining pages for the next sixteen years.”
My heart monitor started beeping faster.
“What are you saying?” I asked. My throat felt so dry that I could barely speak. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This had to be a dream. It couldn’t be real.
