Last Call Read Free Page A

sure? Where did you see him? Is he still there?”
    She heard Dean inhaling now, felt his tension through the phone, and her excitement withered into wariness.
    He said, “Trish, he’s been stabbed.”
    Trish took a ragged breath. She’d never met her dad. The only evidence she had that he even existed was a rock album he and her mom had recorded before she was born, and a dog-eared photograph of the band, both of which she’d discovered last fall in a trunk in the attic, dusty treasures her mother had somehow overlooked in her stubborn campaign to eradicate all traces of the man’s involvement in her life. For years before that discovery Trish had tried repeatedly to find out about him from her mom, but the only response she ever got was, “You don’t have a father.” Until the night of her fourteenth birthday, when her mother finally relented, tossing her a few bitter crumbs: “He’s a bum, Trisha. A selfish, junkie bum. And I hate to have to say this to you, but you’re better off without him. We both are.” Her mother’s eyes had softened then, just a little... “He was an incredible musician, though, I will give him that. He could have been one of the greats.” Glad to have her talking, Trish said, “Can you at least tell me his name?” and her mom said, “Mud,” and lit the candles on the cake.
    Now Trish said, “How bad is it?”
    “It’s pretty bad,” Dean said. “They’re taking him to the OR right now. Doctor Peale’s working on him, though, and she’s the best trauma surgeon in the city.” He said, “Look, why don’t we give it a couple of hours. I’ll see if I can find out how he’s doing and call you back. I tried your cell before, but...”
    “The battery’s charging.”
    “Will you be at home, then? So I can call you?”
    “You’re sure about the tattoo?”
    “Positive.”
    “Then I’m coming down. Toronto General, right?”
    “Yes, TGH. You want me to meet you?”
    “No, Dean, thanks. Thanks so much for letting me know.”
    “Trish, there’s something else. He’s been living on the street—”
    “No,” Trish said. “Please. I want to make up my own mind about him. Goodbye, Dean, and thanks again.” She cradled the receiver and turned to Stacey with tears in her eyes. “It’s my dad,” she said. “I think he’s found my dad.”
    “I heard,” Stacey said, embracing her friend. “Is he going to be alright?”
    “Dean said it doesn’t look good. They’re going to operate on him now.”
    “You weren’t serious about going down there, though...were you?”
    Trish pulled free of her friend’s embrace and headed for the front door, her mind made up.
    Stacey went after her, saying, “Come on, Trish, take a minute to think this through. You’ve never even met the man, that’s number one. And what if Dean’s wrong? You’re going to drive all the way to Toronto on the word of that cheating asshole?”
    Trish was rooting around in the hall closet now, looking for a jacket, Stacey’s words failing to sway her. Couldn’t she understand that choice wasn’t a factor here? She had to go, even if Dean was wrong. She had to know for sure.
    Stacey said, “Look, we start our new jobs at four—the jobs your mother had to beg to get for us, remember? She’ll crucify you if you don’t show up.”
    “I’ve waited my entire life for this day, Stace. You know how I feel. I have to go.”
    “Yeah, I get that, but what about...? Oh, screw it, then. I’m coming with you. It’s a four hour trip and you’re in no shape to drive.”
    “No. You go to work. No sense both of us losing our jobs. I’ll be fine, really. Tell Mom...tell her Dean and I made up. I don’t care.” She took Stacey’s hand. “But whatever you do, don’t tell her about my father. Please. I mean it.”
    “Okay, I promise. But what if it really is your dad? You’ll have to tell her some day.”
    “I will, just not today. Wait here a sec, okay?”
    Before Stacey could reply, Trish ran