Free Love Immortal by Linnea Hall Page B

he
was concerned, this TV was perfect. He was more likely to be out
with the guys from his Krewe, playing softball at the fire house,
or reading a book. He used to tell Jewell that the quality of
television had diminished in direct proportion to the number of
channels available, so he didn’t see any reason to get a bigger TV
– or cable. He saw no desire in watching the prolific stupidity of
reality shows on a larger screen or in higher definition.
    “Dinner from last night is in the fridge,”
her father called as Jewell started into the hall.
    Jewell poked her head into the refrigerator
as she called to her dad, “you know dad, you could at least get
cable. You know, you’re going to have to if you want to keep
watching TV after the digital switch.”
    “The what?” He had no clue. Jewell wasn’t
surprised. Technology and Tommy McKean mixed about as well as oil
and water.
    “Never mind dad. What’re you watching?”
    “I don’t know. Good Morning America I think.
I don’t even know why I have this on. I should probably go to the
bookstore, I need a new book.”
    “Why don’t you do that dad? I’m going to bed
anyway. I’ll see you when I get up.”
    He grunted an acknowledgement. He liked to be
home when Jewell was home and awake. Sometimes he felt that he
didn’t spend enough time with her.
    Jewell ate a salad while watching an
interview with some sports guy. When she was finished, she took her
bowl into the kitchen, rinsed it out, and put it in the dishwasher.
She walked into the living room and stood in front of her dad,
blocking the TV. He looked up at her. “I really love you dad.
Thanks for everything you do for me.”
    Her dad reached out and pulled her into his
lap. She was an adult in so many ways, but felt a child in so many
more. She sat on her dad’s lap for a few minutes, her arms circling
his neck, just content to be in his arms. Then she turned, kissed
him on the forehead and gave him a quick hug. “I’ll see you when I
wake up dad. Don’t worry about dinner. I don’t have to work tonight
so I’ll fix something nice.” She used the arm of the chair to lever
herself off her father’s lap and walked slowly to her room.
    When she woke, she looked at the clock and
was surprised at how long she had slept. It was nearly six. She got
out of bed and walked to the kitchen. She had promised both Collin
and her dad a good dinner but it was already six and it would take
her a half an hour to get to the hospital. She opened the
refrigerator, leaning on the door to see if there was something she
could heat up. She found some seafood gumbo that her dad probably
picked up at Morton’s so she threw some of that in a Gladware
container with some rice that was left over from Chinese her father
had brought home, and popped it in the microwave to heat. Her dad
wasn’t home; he was probably out with some of the guys or playing
softball at the firehouse. She wrote him a quick note:
    “Dad: had to run to the hospital for a while.
Didn’t have time to make dinner. Saw some Gumbo in there. Thought
you could eat that. Sorry. Love you. Jewell”
    She ran into her room and threw on some
clothes. She tried to choose clothes that Ashley would pick out.
She grabbed a pair of khaki pants, and a pink blouse. She had a
pink, western style belt that she threaded through the belt loops
quickly and then threw on a pair of white and pink Skechers with
pink laces. She checked herself in the mirror and thought that she
looked like she was thirteen, but she didn’t want to take the time
to change. She ran to the kitchen, grabbed the gumbo from the
microwave and her keys from the table and ran out the door.
    On the causeway, she was pushing it. She knew
that she couldn’t afford to pay for a ticket, but she couldn’t seem
to ease up on the accelerator. She also knew that any extra time
she gained by speeding would be lost if she was pulled over. She
scanned the bridge, looking for police cars parked in the
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