I’d known what Ryan was doing as soon as he mentioned my eyebrows, because he’d played that trick on me when I was a teenager and he’d knocked his head hard on a cupboard when I’d yelled “Boo!”
He was the king of short-term amnesia.
I maybe should have felt guilty about doing that to a man who was recovering from injuries that almost took his life, but I didn’t even a little. His heartbeat had been strong, he’d gotten color in his cheeks that hadn’t been there for days, and he looked alive again.
That didn’t mean I wasn’t praying as I walked back out again and apologizing to any God in the skies who’d listen, begging them not to teach me the meaning of karma by giving me triplets.
Watching the news the next morning…
Anchor one was looking intensely at the camera as she read the words off the autocue.
“And in today’s headlines, the daughter of the man who was shot three times in Kissimmee, Ryan Adams-Dewitt, was heard giving the hospital a passionate speech about the effect of diesel, weapons, and glitter on the environment the day it happened.
“Let’s begin by giving you the good news that the victim woke up yesterday, and they’ve said he’ll be moved out of the ICU sometime in the next twenty-four hours. The power and magic of the human body amazes me each time we report on a story like this, but we’d like to wish him a speedy recovery on behalf of all of us here.”
The second news anchor nodded his head rapidly. “That we do. I understand it was a close call, but he’s shown his doctors that he’s made of strong stuff.”
The camera panned back to the first anchor. “It’s our understanding that his daughter, Sasha Adams-DeWitt, is studying environmental sciences, and it seems she’s equally as passionate about saving the world as she is about her loved ones, who all hung on every word she said, according to our witnesses.
“A source from the hospital passed us this recording of some of it, and we hope you’ll walk away from it with a fresh mind on what we can do for our planet because I know that’s what I did,” the news anchor winked before the screen turned to a stock photo of the hospital.
“Let’s not even factor into it how many harmful gasses and toxins the places that made all of that weaponry put into the world, just so she could try and kill innocent fucking people. Oh, and she was driving a diesel,” the people watching the segment heard as the recording was played. Then there was a pause, followed by a disgusted, “A diesel.”
“Oh,” the voice cried. “She also had a glittery cover around her steering wheel in her diesel vehicle, carrying weapons and a plastic crate. Glitter doesn’t break down. It pollutes our oceans, kills fish, builds up in their bodies, and when we eat them, we get cancer from it. The list of her crimes is endless.”
The screen changed back to the grinning co-anchor for the news segment. “She’s quite a firecracker. We also learned from the family that reusable—meaning washable—toilet paper is a thing as well, but I don’t think I’ll be buying it anytime soon.”
The first anchor grimaced. “Ditto. I’ve got a new passion for changing the world, but I refuse to take it that far.”
Sasha
Sam rang me after the news segment was aired, and I could hear Ryan trying to laugh and groaning with the pain it caused him.
I’d watched it with my mouth open, wondering why the hell someone would share that with a news station, but hearing how happy and amused my dads were… I could accept it and not sue the shit out of the hospital. They’d also saved my dad’s life, so there was that, too.
After hanging up, I looked over at the man who’d stuck by my side the whole time.
He’d held me when I cried, distracted me when I’d needed it, held the tissues when I couldn’t stop crying, and needed to blow my nose.
And yesterday, when I’d decided to add to my tattoo with other things that blew my mind with their beauty and that I loved, he’d been right beside me the whole time.
Many times over the last year, I’d woken up to his name written in Sharpie on my foot. Now it was on there permanently, along with my dads’ names.
He’d been my rock when I was at my weakest on many occasions over the last year.
I’d find a way to do the same for him. I just hoped it wasn’t under the same circumstances as he’d been mine.
Chapter Nineteen
Sasha
Five weeks later…
“Your dad looks good, babe,” Sadie murmured as we lay back and enjoyed the peace and quiet in the pool we were using as a boat.