Blind Date with a Billionaire Biker (Blind Date Disasters Book 3)
Page 19
I could not go back to that.
I just couldn’t.
It was like a heavy weight on my shoulders, pushing down and forcing me into submission to a way of life I didn’t agree with anymore. I’d been doing a lot of reading in the book of Galatians, and I’d come upon passages my church never brought up in all the years I’d been there. Passages that spoke of freedom in Christ from extra-Biblical rules. Freedom that motivated one to serve from a heart of love, not duty, and to make choices when it came to the gray areas.
I picked up the phone and dialed my father’s number, asking God to infuse me with strength, to give me the right words to say to my parents.
Dad answered immediately. “Tirzah.”
“Yes, it’s me.”
“Thank goodness.” He sounded relieved. “I thought you weren’t home, and it’s vital I speak to you.”
“I’m home.” Lame. Of course, I was home.
“Good. Did you hear my message?”
“Yes, I just listened to it.”
“Then you know someone paid off the debt.”
“Yes. That’s wonderful, right?”
“It is, but I’m a little confused about who this Weston Mitchell guy is.”
I took a deep breath and released it. I could do this. “Dad, there’s something I need to tell you. I’ve been dating Dex Mitchell. He’s a Christian, and you’re going to love him—”
“Without my permission?”
There wasn’t enough air coming into my lungs, so I sucked in a breath. “I know this might be hard for you, but I’m an adult now.”
There were a few moments of silence, and I waited for the blowup to happen.
Instead, he just sighed. “I should have seen Peter’s flaws earlier on. It’s my fault for allowing that relationship to progress. I always thought Jacob Donnelly was a better match, but your mother felt we couldn’t go wrong with Peter since we’re friends with his parents. If I had just stood up to her, we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
“It’s not your fault. And you’re going to love Dex—”
“Tirzah, you’re coming home today. I’ve already purchased the plane ticket, and that’s all there is to say on the matter.”
“What?”
“That place is not good for you. It’s ruined your thinking.”
“No, on the contrary, it’s improved my thinking. I’m not coming home, Dad. I’ve decided to stay with Grandpa.”
“There is something I haven’t told you.” He didn’t sound angry—just very, very concerned. “I wasn’t going to say anything because I didn’t want you worrying on the plane, but I can see there’s no other way at this point.”
“What?” A bad feeling swept through me, and I glanced over to see Grandpa and Dex watching me closely. I lowered myself into a chair. Something told me I would need to sit down.
“Your mother is in the hospital. She has what they’re calling a Thyroid Storm.”
“Thyroid Storm? I’ve never heard of that. Is she okay?”
“It’s very serious, Tirzah. Life-threatening, actually. They estimate the mortality rate for untreated thyroid storm to be seventy-five percent.” His voice broke, and he took a few moments to speak again. “It develops in people who have hyperthyroidism. It’s rare, but when someone has an untreated, overactive thyroid…”
“What are you saying?” My hand flew to my mouth, my stomach clenching. “She’s going to be okay, right?” Fear clutched at my throat, choking out the air.
“Yes, the doctor thinks so, but they’re going to have to do surgery to remove the thyroid. Her blood pressure and body temperature skyrocketed to unsafe levels, and they’re worried about congestive heart failure.”
“Wait. The doctor thinks so?” That didn’t sound confident. Tears sprung to my eyes, and I covered them with my free hand. “I don’t understand. She seemed okay before I left.”
“The medical team explained that this can happen when someone experiences trauma or has been under extreme stress. We both know the last few weeks have been difficult.”
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“It surprised me too. I wish I’d pushed her to get checked out after she received those initial tests. She’d been complaining of a rapid heartbeat and hand tremors, but I assumed that was from anxiety.” He breathed in a shaky breath. “This situation wrapped her up so tight she didn’t take proper care of herself. It’s my fault, really. This entire thing is my fault.”
I didn’t have anything to say. It was all a huge shock to me.
“She’s going to need your help after the surgery,” he continued. “Please don’t desert her when she needs you most.”
“No, no, of course, not. I’m coming home today.”
“Good.” He cleared his throat. “I love you. I hope you know that.”
“I do, and I love you too.” I wiped my tears with the back of my hand and let out a heavy breath. “My mind hasn’t changed regarding the other things, but I’m coming home to help Mom.”
“We can talk about that later. Let’s concentrate on your mother right now.”
“You’re right. We need to focus on her.”
After I hung up, I turned to see Grandpa, his eyes flickering with concern in anticipation of what I was about to say. He put a hand on my shoulder, his face grave and taut. “What’s wrong with your mother?”
“She has this thing called a Thyroid Storm.” I explained everything my dad had told me.
“I’ll help you pack,” he said. “We don’t want you to miss the plane. She’s going to need you now more than ever.”
“I’m sorry,” Dex said. “This is difficult news. We’ll pray for her to have a quick recovery.”
“Thanks.” I pressed my lips together, feeling as if my world was collapsing. “I don’t know when I can come back. This changes everything.”
Grandpa nodded. “You’ll always have a place available here but don’t hurry. Be there for your mother.”
Dex had this dazed look as if someone had just smashed a glass dish across his face. “I love you, Tizzy. I love you so much, and I will wait for you.”
“I love you too.” I stood and wrapped my arms around him, tears streaming down my cheeks. This wasn’t how I’d envisioned us sharing our feelings, but life didn’t always allow you to plan those things. My chest compressed as I thought about my mother. I was afraid for her, and I wanted to be there. The idea of not going to her made me panicky. In the back of my mind, there was a part of me that mourned this life I was about to give up. A life with Dex…and Grandpa. A life that had come to mean so much to me. Once I was home, there was a good chance it would be difficult to leave.
But I had choices. I did have choices, and I wouldn’t allow anyone to take them away from me. Not now. Not ever again.
I hoped I remembered that when everything went back to the way it was before. I swept all of that out of my head because it was time to focus on Mom and what she needed.
***
“There you are, my sweet baby girl.” Mom held out her hand to me, and I clasped it and drew closer. We were in the hospital, and Mom was recovering from surgery. The doctor said it had gone smoothly, and she would be able to go home soon. She was out of danger and would be okay as long as she took her medication.
“I love you, Mom. I’ve been so scared. When Dad called—”
“He shouldn’t have told you.”
I glanced at Dad and he shook his head slightly. He hadn’t mentioned our earlier conversation to Mom, not wanting to burden her with more stress. “Well, I’m glad he did.”
“Did you hear?” she asked. “Someone paid off the debt, and we get to keep the house. Your father said it was a mysterious donation from a man named Wentworth Mitchell.” She wrinkled her forehead. “That sounds strange. Do you know anything about it? Why he would give us that kind of money?” She was a little sleepy from the pain meds, and I had a feeling she wouldn’t remember any of this.
&nbs
p; I glanced at Dad again, and he drew closer to the bed. “It’s all been taken care of. Let’s not talk of it again. We’ll only speak of happy things from this point forward.”
Mom smiled, appearing grateful. “Okay. Once I’m out of here, let’s set up a day for the Donnelly’s to come over. Nothing makes me happier than the thought of Tirzah and Jacob in a proper courtship. That will give me an incentive to get better.”
My stomach pitched, the tension slowly unraveling until I felt like I might throw up. Dad caught my eye and held my gaze. The unspoken message: don’t contradict Mom. She was in a fragile state and couldn’t handle any disruptions right now.
But he didn’t have to worry. I didn’t want to upset her, either. I wanted her to get better, and I was grateful she was okay. Nearly losing her had scared me. Being with her made me feel better, but there was an ache that hadn’t gone away since I’d left California. I pushed that away—pushed the overwhelming sadness to a distant part of my brain. I was not planning on focusing on myself in any way and needed to direct all my energy to helping Mom. That was all that mattered right now.
When the doctor released her from the hospital, we picked up the necessary prescriptions, and I’d taken it upon myself to divide up the drugs into a daily pill box. She would have to take certain medications for the rest of her life, but we were all thankful she would be okay.
Dad and I got her settled in bed at home, and since Mom didn’t care for television, I sat at her side and read books to her until she fell asleep. I closed her door and headed out to the living room where Dad was waiting.
“Your mother appreciates the time you’re spending with her.”
“I want to be there for her.”
“When she’s a little better, we’ll introduce you to Jacob.”
My parents had a one-track mind with this courtship stuff. Maybe some of their friends were putting pressure on them, or maybe Dad was looking for ways to keep me in Pennsylvania. “Dad—”
“Just meet him. That’s all I ask. He’s a very decent man.”
“I’m sure he is, but I’m in love with Dex.”
Shock registered on his face as he twisted around to stare at me in horror. “In love? You weren’t out there long enough to fall in love.”
“Ironically, I was with Peter much longer, and neither of us felt any love at all. With Dex it’s different. He has so many wonderful qualities. I wish you’d let me talk about him.”
“Is he one of the bikers?”
“Yes, but—”
“That’s all I need to know.”
“Why are you being so unreasonable? You haven’t even met him.”
“Because I want the best for my daughter, and I’m confident some guy from a motorcycle gang doesn’t deserve her.”
“It’s not a gang. It’s a Christian club.”
“Whatever. Christian and biker don’t go together.”
“Says who?”
He frowned like he couldn’t believe I was challenging him. “Says me. Says your mother. Says our church.”
“Our church doesn’t have the last word on everything. The Bible does.”
“And our church teaches the Bible.” He waved his hand and turned away. “End of discussion.”
Red hot anger shot through me at his flippant attitude and unwillingness to even talk about another point of view. “Fine. I’ll drop it…for now. But we’ll have to revisit this discussion later.” I headed to the phone to call Grandpa. I wanted to keep him informed on Mom’s progress since I knew he would be worried.
“Who do you think you’re calling?” Dad asked.
“Grandpa. I want to update him—”
He strode over and unplugged the cordless phone before I got there. He lifted it in his arms and held onto it like I was trying to steal it. “I don’t want you calling him. I’ll be the one to give him updates from now on.”
“Are you serious?”
“Completely. Your mother and I aren’t satisfied with his character and influence on you. We’ve discussed it, and we forbid you to speak to him until further notice.”
I felt the blood draining from my face as I stood there gaping at him. Why was he behaving like a tyrant? I’d never seen him act like that before. Sure, he’d always been strict, but I had always been a dutiful daughter.
And then it occurred to me. He was clamping down, exerting control because he thought I’d changed.
And I had. I truly had.
“I’m twenty-two years old. You’re really going to push this?”
He frowned, looking uncomfortable. “I’m doing it to protect you.”
“Look, if you take the phone, we’ll find another way to communicate.”
“Such as?”
“Social media…Facebook.”
“Phftt. Whatever. I don’t care about that. I just don’t want you speaking on the phone with him.”
I sighed with relief. Dad didn’t understand the ins and outs of social media since it wasn’t something he ever used.
“What’s going on?” Mom stood at the edge of the living room looking distressed. She was clutching her heart and appeared as if she might topple over any second now.
“Mom, you shouldn’t be up on your own.” I flew to her side and put my arm around her waist. “Let me help you back to bed.”
“I thought I heard yelling out here.”
“No yelling,” Dad said. “I’m only setting down the rules for Tirzah. Nothing for you to worry about, love.”
I brought Mom to her bed and helped settle her in. She must have seen the agitation on my face because she sighed.
“Tirzah, what’s wrong, honey?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.” I didn’t want to burden her when she was just barely out of the hospital and still recuperating.
She patted my arm. “I know it must be hard coming home after a trip to California. You probably didn’t have much responsibility there, and it’s difficult getting back into the swing of things.” When I didn’t say anything, she continued. “Pretty soon that forlorn expression will disappear off your face.”
I nodded, doing my best to be respectful.
“There will be marriage and babies and everyone at church will be so happy for you and Jacob.” The pain meds must have kicked in because she sounded a little loopy. There was no point in contradicting her. She probably wouldn’t remember, anyway. “Peter is courting someone else now. Did you know that?”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t.”
“He seems very taken with her.”
My eyebrows flew up. “That’s good. I’m glad he’s happy. Everyone should be allowed to marry the person they love.” When I glanced at her, she had already closed her eyes and was breathing heavily. Her features settled into a tranquil expression as if everything was falling into place the way it should.
***
A week went by, and Mom was doing much better. At this point, she was able to sit in the living room in one of the lounge chairs that enabled her to put her feet up. I did all the household chores and made sure she had what she needed. She liked to cross stitch and listen to music, and sometimes I would stop what I was doing and join her. Dad returned to work, and since he couldn’t leave us without a phone in case there was an emergency, he plugged the cordless phone back up with the strictest admonition that I was not to call Grandpa or Dex.
Since I was living in my parents’ home, I felt the need to respect their rules, so I didn’t make any phone calls to California. Dad allowed me to call my friend, Phoebe, and I did a few times, but, unfortunately, she’d sided with my parents. She said I was hard-headed because I didn’t want to meet Jacob, and in our last conversation, she said her husband didn’t want her talking to me anymore. The discussion had left me feeling alone and frustrated. I knew my choices would have consequences, but those consequences really stung.
Grandpa and I stayed in touch through Facebook, and although Dex hated social media, he joined Facebook just so he could communicate with me.
I assured him I would come back, and every day I felt the urgency of the situation a little more. It seemed like if I didn’t leave soon, I would be trapped forever in this world I didn’t want. Even so, I wouldn’t make plans until Mom was her normal self again.
I loved my parents. But it was hard being treated like a child. It made me grateful for the days I lived with Grandpa. He never made me feel that way or implied I wasn’t smart enough to make the tough decisions in life.
One evening, we were all gathered in front of the TV, watching the news, when the newscaster shared something that threw everything into chaos.
“Billionaire Wentworth Mitchell recently held a press conference to announce that his son, Dexter, will be joining him at Mitchell Manufacturing.”
The camera shifted to a brief clip with Mr. Mitchell. His arm was around Dex, and they were both smiling. Dex seemed…generally okay with it. He had a slight smile, and he wasn’t pulling away. Seeing his face warmed my heart like a hot mug of cocoa. I wanted more. I wanted to be with him in person, and it hurt so much, I had to look away for a few seconds.
Mr. Mitchell announced to the press that after all these years he and his son had reunited, and he was moving forward with making him his heir.
Mom sat up a little straighter. “Wentworth Mitchell. How do I know that name?” She didn’t remember our conversation at the hospital, but I hadn’t thought she would.
Dad cleared his throat. “He’s a billionaire. I’m sure he’s been on the news before.”
“His son is awfully handsome,” she said.
“You think so?” I asked, perking up. “Because—”
“Tirzah,” Dad said in a tone that was very much a warning. “Your mother is still recovering.”
“Right.”
Mom appeared confused. “Yes, I am, but what does that have to do with Mr. Mitchell’s son?”
“Nothing, honey. We’re just talking.” He turned the channel and glanced back at Mom. “Since you’re feeling better, maybe we should talk about setting a date for Jacob to stop by.”
Mom rubbed her hands together and looked at me. “Oh, I love that idea. When can we do it?”