Page 265 of Daddy's Pride
“Oh, right, sorry,” I said, snapping it into place as he started the truck.
“No need to be sorry,” he said, pulling away from the curb and resting his hand on the center console between us, almost like an invitation. “I’m proud of you, taking care of the pup and calling me to help. You did good, baby. And we’ll make sure she gets the best care she can. Do you want to tell me where to go?”
“Oh! Um, yeah. Thank you.”
I did, stealing another peek at his hand out of the corner of my eye as I read off the directions from my phone.
“Okay,” he said. “We should be there in just a couple of minutes.”
I nodded. It was just… resting there. His hand I mean.
Was I allowed to hold it?
I mean, that would be weird. Maybe he just liked to drive that way for some reason?
I made myself stop looking at it, clearing my throat. “Um, I don’t have a credit card but I’ve got checks for the house account.” Oh God, my parents were going to kill me. “Like, you know, the paper kind? Do you think that will be okay for paying the vet? Would a place like that even take them?”
He looked over at me for a second before turning his eyes back to the road. “I’ve got it, baby boy.”
“Got what?”
He looked over again, then reached out and took my hand, lacing our fingers together and not seeming to mind at all when I did the whole clinging-like-a-baby-monkey routine again. Except, you know, just with my hand this time.
“I’ll take care of the vet expense,” he said, the words taking a minute for my brain to make sense of since I hadn’t held hands with anyone since Hannah, and this was totally different and a little overwhelming but also really, really nice.
Then what he’d said hit me, and I jerked my eyes back up to his. “What? Um, why? She’s not your dog.”
He laughed, low and kind of quiet, and my stomach did a weird fluttering thing. “No, she’s not.”
I bit my lip. “I think it might be expensive. Like, really expensive.”
My eyes welled up with tears again, and I ducked away from him, trying to wipe them on my shoulder because now I guess I was clinging onto his hand with both of mine?
Ugh, when did I even do that?
But Daddy still didn’t seem to mind, and then we were at the emergency clinic and I stopped worrying so much about how weird he must think I was, crying all the time and clinging like this, because the beagle needed us. Well, she needed the vet. Who said that she might make it but that it meant immediate surgery which would be super expensive, which almost had me panicking until Daddy just wrapped me up in another hug like he’d done right at the beginning and told the vet to please do whatever was necessary and not worry about the cost.
I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t even think I had words.
I tried anyway, as soon as they took the dog to the back, leaving us in the bright, sterile lobby.
“Um, thank you. I’m not sure when I can pay you back, but?—”
He put a finger over my mouth, shushing me. “No.”
“No?” I mumbled, not minding his finger there even though it made the word come out garbled.
Daddy smiled. “That’s right, baby. You’re not paying me back. I told you, I’ve got this. Just let me take care of it. You don’t need to worry about anything other than being here to give the pup a friendly face when she wakes up.”
My eyes teared up again, but I blinked it away fast. “Oh. Okay.” My chest felt so tight I could barely talk. “I can do that. Um, do you want me to text you when she comes out of surgery? I mean, just to tell you how it went.”
He cocked his head to the side, looking down at me like I was a puzzle. Then he chuckled, low and soothing again, and pulled me over to some chairs they had set up near a shelf of high-end dog food.
He sat, then tugged me down next to him, wrapping an arm around my shoulders so I kind of had to lean against him, which I assumed meant he wouldn’t mind.
And then he kissed my forehead again.
“You don’t need to text me. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you tell me everything you know about beagles while we wait.”