Simple Man, Simple Dream Read online

  He also felt a headache coming on, so he closed his eyes to listen to the TV, and the sound of her playing the game on his phone.

  * * * *

  Ryland awoke that morning feeling…

  Fucking great.

  He felt a little guilty that it’d been so late by the time Deacon left last night, but it’d been damn good having the man there.

  He did his laundry that morning, then was getting dressed for work a little after ten when he sent Deacon another text.

  Heading to work, D. Love you.

  He was surprised when his phone rang seconds later from Deacon’s number. He smiled as he answered. “Hey, Daddy.”

  “Who dis?”

  He wasn’t sure who the voice belonged to, at first. “What?”

  “Is dis Ry?”

  He looked at his phone, confused. “Who is this? Winter? Is that you, honey?”

  “Ry, I can’t wake up PopPop.” Recognition slammed into him as he heard Winter start to cry.

  “Wait, what?” Terror filled him as he snatched his keys from the counter and raced for the door. “What’s going on? What do you mean you can’t wake him up, honey?”

  “He wasn’t awake when we got here dis morning. He forgot to make de go-juice. Then he was tired and gave me his phone to play my bubble game. Now he’s on de couch and won’t wake up.”

  Oh, shit! He didn’t dare hang up the phone and call 911, because for starters, he couldn’t remember Deacon’s exact address, even though he knew how to get there. Secondly, he didn’t want to leave Winter alone without an adult to talk to.

  He jumped into his car. “Honey, look at his chest. Is his chest moving up and down?”

  She sniffled. “Uh-huh.”

  A little relief, at least. “I’m on the way right now. I’m about fifteen minutes away. I want you to keep talking to me, okay?”

  She sniffled again. “Okay. Is PopPop gonna be okay?”

  He didn’t want to make her promises he couldn’t deliver on. “Can you try shaking him real hard for me? Try yelling at him.”

  He heard her yell at Deacon, trying to get him to wake up and nearly blasting his eardrum out in the process, but he stayed on the phone as he drove.

  “He mumbled at me.”

  “Okay, honey. That’s good…” He was honestly shocked he didn’t get a speeding ticket by the time he squealed into the driveway only ten minutes later, skidding to a stop and throwing it into park. He didn’t even bother shutting the engine off. He jumped out and ran for the front door, thankfully finding it unlocked.

  Winter turned from where she was standing beside the couch, tears streaming down her cheeks. “He still won’t wake up, Grampa.”

  He ran over to Deacon, dropping to his knees and relieved to find a pulse when he checked. He slapped Deacon’s cheeks, hard. “Deacon, wake up!”

  He mumbled at him.

  Then a thought hit him. “Winter, where does PopPop keep his test kit? For his blood sugar?”

  “His poke?”

  “Yeah, his poke. Where is it?” He honestly hadn’t paid attention before when he came over to spend time with Deacon there. When they spent the night together, it was nearly always at his place, usually because Ry was working the next morning and Deacon didn’t want to make him drive the extra fifteen minutes from his house, or get up earlier than he had to.

  She ran into the kitchen, Ry on her heels, and pointed. He spotted the tester and snatched it and a test strip from its place on the counter and ran back to the couch with them.

  “Did you see PopPop do his poke this morning?”

  She shook her head.

  “Did he eat breakfast?” He swore as he figured out how to turn the damn thing on.

  “Not much.”

  He finally figured it out and stuck Deacon in the left pinky. The machine beeped.

  48.

  Fuck. He looked at Winter. “Find me a piece of mail with PopPop’s address on it, honey.”

  She ran to do that while he bolted for the kitchen, rooting through the cupboards until he found a half-empty honey bear in one cabinet.

  He raced back to the living room. Dropping onto his knees again, he cradled Deacon’s head in one arm and got the spout into his mouth. He squeezed, relieved to see Deacon’s mouth work when he felt the honey hit his tongue.

  “Swallow, Deac,” he loudly ordered, gently shaking his head. “Swallow for me.”

  Winter ran back to him with several pieces of mail, waving them at him. “Like this, Grampa?”

  He looked at them, spying an electric bill. “Good job, honey. Put them right here. Deac, swallow.”

  “Is PopPop gonna be okay, Grampa?”

  “I think so, honey. His blood sugar’s really low.” He squeezed more honey into his mouth, gently shaking him again. “Swallow again, Deacon. Come on, Daddy. You can’t scare me like this. Swallow, dammit.”

  When Rylan felt Deacon start swallowing, he nearly cried with relief. He set the honey bear down and grabbed his phone, dialing 911 after dragging the electric bill closer.

  “911, what is your emergency.”

  “I need an ambulance at 8215 Caribbean Dream Court, Sarasota. Fifty-eight-year-old man with blood sugar of forty-eight. He was unconscious and barely responsive. I fed him some honey, but he’s going to need an ambulance…”

  By the time Ryland heard sirens wailing just down the street, he really was crying in relief, because Deacon’s eyes fluttered open.

  “What…”

  “Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay. Your blood sugar bottomed out.”

  “Winter?”

  “She’s right here. She’s okay. She called me when she couldn’t wake you up.”

  “What?”

  “I’d texted you, and somehow, she figured out how to call me. Thank god. I think she’s old enough for the 911 lesson now.” He offered him another dose of honey. “Swallow this. Winter, go open the door for the paramedics.”

  “Okay, Grampa.” She ran off to do it.

  Ryland leaned in and kissed Deacon’s forehead. “Don’t you ever fucking scare me like that again, Daddy,” he whispered. “I can’t lose you.”

  Confusion still filled Deacon’s expression, but at least he was back.

  By the time the paramedics had Deacon loaded on a stretcher, he’d recovered enough he was trying to argue that he was fine and didn’t need to go to the hospital.

  Ryland grabbed Winter and slung her onto his hip. “You scared her, and you scared me. You’re going. I’ll grab your car so I can use her car seat, and we’ll be right behind you after I lock up the house.”

  Once the ambulance had pulled out, he moved his car and shut it off, then ran back to the house. While he found clothes for Winter, he called work and told them he wouldn’t be in, that he had an emergency. Ten minutes after the ambulance left with Deacon, he and Winter were in Deacon’s car and heading that way, too.

  In fact, when he reached the emergency room, they rushed him and Winter through the check-in process and led them back to where Deacon was sitting up on a gurney and arguing with a doctor that he wanted to be discharged.

  Winter pointed a finger at Deacon, a dark glare on her face. “Be quiet, PopPop!” she yelled at him, shocking both Ryland and Deacon into silence. “You listen to de doctor.” She started crying. “I couldn’t wake you up!”

  Ryland held her close, trying to soothe her, even as tears rolled down his own cheeks. “So lay your ass back down on that bed,” he said. “Because you made her cry, and you made me cry, and you’re going to get checked out.”

  She had her arms wrapped around Ryland’s neck, her face pressed against his shoulder as she cried. “Grampa had to wake you up,” she sobbed. “I couldn’t wake you up!”

  Deacon finally lay back down, but he reached for her.

  Ryland got her to let go of him and go to Deacon, where she clung to him.

  “I’m okay, honey.”

  “No, you not. You didn’t do your poke dis mornin
g.”

  “Wait.” Deacon looked at Ryland. “What’d she call you?”

  “He’s Grampa,” she said, her voice now muffled against Deacon’s chest. “You’re PopPop. He’s Grampa.”

  Despite how he was crying, Ryland laughed. “Um, okay then. The Pumpkin has spoken.”

  Deacon kissed the top of her head. “Honey, go back to Grampa, okay? Let him hold you while the doctor looks me over. I’m going to be okay, honey.”

  Meanwhile, Ryland didn’t miss the confused looks the doctor and nurse gave both men, obviously trying to do the math in their head about Winter’s age, and his, and Deacon’s, and her calling him Grandpa, and coming up with banana for their efforts.

  Ryland took Winter and sat with her in a chair off to the side while he—and Winter—answered the doctor’s questions about what had happened.

  Working backward, twenty minutes later, the doctor figured what likely happened was the early dinner the evening before, combined with Deacon taking his medication late, and then eating a lighter than usual breakfast—along with the, cough, physical exertion of the evening before—had tanked his blood sugar levels.

  Which were now, thankfully, nearly normal.

  No harm, no foul, but they wanted to hold him for observation for another couple of hours and run a few tests, just to be safe.

  Once the three of them were alone in the room, Ryland handed Deacon’s cell phone over. “And you get to call Delaney, PopPop.” He smiled.

  “Gee, thanks.”

  Chapter Nine

  Delaney blasted into the room like a banshee. “Dad!” She practically threw herself on him. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine now, thanks to Winter and Ryland.”

  She turned, reaching for Winter.

  Ryland let her take Winter and tried not to feel irritated that Delaney was still giving him stink-eye.

  “Why didn’t you call me?” she snapped at him.

  “Because he was too busy saving my life,” Deacon said, making her turn. “You can’t keep hating him.”

  “Yeah, Mommy,” Winter said. “Grampa saved PopPop’s life.”

  “What’d you call him?”

  “He’s Grampa.” The little girl nodded. “Dat’s what I’m callin’ him now. Because he is. I love him, and I love PopPop.”

  Ry was already standing before Delaney said it. “Can I have a moment alone with my father, please?”

  “No,” Deacon said. “Ry, don’t you dare leave.” Deacon sat up and stared at Delaney. “You stop. Now. You’ve spent your whole life not having to share me with anyone except Winter. He’s part of this family, and I’m done with you trying to push him out.”

  “Yeah, Mommy,” Winter said, making Del put her down so she could walk over to Ryland, where she reached for him.

  He picked her up, seating her on his hip.

  “I love Grampa,” she said, throwing her arms around his neck.

  “I’m marrying that man,” Deacon said. “If he’ll have me. So get used to it.”

  Ry felt tears filling his eyes again, and even though he tried to blink them away, Winter noticed.

  “Mommy!” she scolded. “You made Grampa cry! That was mean!”

  “No, honey,” Ry said. “I’m crying because I love PopPop.” He met Deacon’s gaze. “Yes,” he said. He focused on Delaney. “And if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll sign a prenup, or whatever.”

  A dark glare filled her face. “Damn right you will.”

  “No, he won’t,” Deacon said. “And if all you’re going to do is fight me on this, Del, then you can go back to work. I’m fine. It was just stupidity on my part because I wasn’t thinking. I should’ve checked my sugar this morning, and I forgot. They’re going to discharge me in another hour, as long as my blood sugar remains stable. I already have a follow-up appointment with my doctor for in the morning, and Ry’s got my car. He’ll take me and Winter home. Instead of being angry at him, how about being happy and grateful that he thought quickly and helped me and took care of Winter? He actually was thinking of Winter first.”

  “Yeah, Mommy,” Winter said.

  “Think of it this way,” Deacon said, “it’s another pair of eyes on me, if you’re that worried about me. One more person to nag me to take care of myself.”

  She finally crumpled into one of the chairs, crying. “I’m just…I just…I can’t lose you, Dad.”

  “You’re not losing me, honey. You’re getting another dad.” He snickered.

  “Ew. I’m not calling him Dad.”

  “Yeeeeaaah,” Ry said. “Um, please, don’t.”

  Deacon snickered again. “See? There’s something the two of you agree on right there, Del.” He patted the mattress. “Come here, honey.”

  Del finally pulled herself out of the chair and walked over to the bed. He slid over and she climbed in, where she broke down crying.

  “Honey, I love you. I’d kill or die for you, and you know it. You and Winter. And now we’ve got Ry. I know he’s got my back, and yours, and Winter’s. You think back to what you were like in high school. Do you honestly think we’re going to survive her teen years without Ry’s help?”

  “Hey,” Winter said, not sure what they meant, but obviously a little put out.

  Ry distracted her by pretending to tickle her, without actually tickling her, but it still made her laugh.

  “See?” Deacon said. “He’s a natural. He loves her. He loves me. I’m sure he’d come to love you, too, if you’d quit being a damn bitch to him.”

  “We really need a swear jar,” Ry joked.

  Deacon pointed at him. “There you go,” he said to Del. “How many times have you told me that? He’s not your enemy, honey.”

  She rolled her eyes, but Ry noticed her gaze lingered on him for a moment. “It’s going to take me some time to get used to this.”

  “Time is fine,” Deacon said. “But keep an open mind during that time. You’ve been acting like you hate him already.”

  “I don’t…hate him. I just don’t want you to get hurt, Dad.”

  Ry could respect that, but he also knew there was no way he could convince her there was no way he was leaving Deacon. “I’m in this for life,” he quietly said. “I love him. If I didn’t love him, don’t you think I would have said to heck with this a while ago?”

  “He’s got a point, honey,” Deacon said. “You can be a…B-word.”

  Winter giggled. “B-word.”

  “Look, I get it,” Deacon added. “Your mom wasn’t…momly. That guy turned out to be a loser. I know you’re worried about me from a place of love, but that place stopped being love when you kept trying to find reasons to hate Ry instead of looking at the growing mountain of evidence that proves he’s who he says he is.”

  Ryland turned, spotted a box of tissues, and offered them to Del. She finally took them.

  “Thanks.”

  “See?” Deacon said. “Was that hard?”

  Finally, Deacon managed to convince Del to go back to work. It wasn’t long after that he was discharged, anyway. Once they were back in the car—Ry driving—before they left the hospital, Deacon spoke up.

  “You have your keys with you?”

  “For my car?”

  “Your apartment.”

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “Let’s stop by there before we go home.”

  “Why?”

  “So you can get your clothes and stuff for today, tonight, and tomorrow. I want you to spend the night with me.”

  Ry stared into his eyes. “Are you sure?”

  “Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

  “I get to wake up PopPop,” Winter said from the backseat. “And I make PopPop’s go-juice in the morning.”

  But Ry didn’t break eye contact with Deacon. “This is it, isn’t it?”

  He smiled. “Yeah. No going back.”

  Ry leaned over and kissed him. “You scared the F-word out of me.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.” He pa
tted him on the thigh. “Let’s go pick up your stuff and get home.” He tipped his head, indicating Winter. “Someone needs their lunch and their nap.”

  * * * *

  Once they were back at Deacon’s, and Ry had everything unloaded, he made Deacon sit on the couch while he fixed lunch for Winter and himself. Deacon had been fed at the hospital and wasn’t hungry, but he made a point of checking his blood sugar and showing Ry and Winter.

  When Winter finally dozed off for her nap, Deacon joined Ry in the bedroom, where he’d been stashing his things in the drawers he hadn’t even realized Deacon had already cleared out for him.

  Ry grabbed him, his tears flowing hot and heavy again as he kissed him. “I mean it—don’t you fucking scare me like that again, Daddy.”

  Deacon pulled him into his arms and held him as he sobbed. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. But do you know how proud I am of you? You saved my life. They told me you said I was down to forty-eight. I would’ve been dead in another couple of hours, if not sooner.”

  “It’s Winter who saved your life. I still don’t understand how she figured out how to call me. I mean, she called me right after I texted you. I didn’t know she could unlock your phone.”

  “She didn’t have to.”

  “Oh, the bubble game.”

  “No.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit the home button to wake it up. Then he hit the Emergency option.

  There, on the ICE list, was Ryland’s number, at the very top. Right above Del’s.

  HUSBAND - RYLAND GOODWIN

  Stunned, he stared at it for a long moment. “When did you do that?”

  “The other day, when I was playing around with it. I had plugged in your name and number anyway, but then I thought what if something happened to me and Del tried to be snotty? I wanted you listed like that, so at least someone would hopefully get the info to you. I did start teaching Winter how to call 911 the other day, but I first taught her how to use the emergency numbers. She probably forgot about it until she saw your text pop up.”

  Ry stared at the screen until it auto-dimmed and shut off before he finally looked into Deacon’s eyes again. “Ask me again, Daddy,” he whispered. “Please?”