The Ghost Runner by Blair Richmond Page B

laugh immediately, though I’d certainly witnessed it only rarely growing up: My dad has an infectious, booming laugh that used to make the living room walls shake when I was a kid. I could always tell when he was watching his favorite sitcom because I would be upstairs in my room and thought I could feel the floor tremble with each roar. I welcomed the noise because it meant he was happy and occupied with something that wasn’t alcohol or fighting with my mom. But his laughter didn’t come often, and he rarely shared it with Mom and me.
    Still, I recognize it right away—and I can’t believe he has shown up at the store uninvited. I rush out to the floor, and there he is, standing with David near the register, yukking it up as if they’re two old college buddies.
    â€œHey, Scooter,” Dad says when he sees me.
    My childhood nickname. I must’ve liked it back when I was young, but right now it grates on my nerves like the gnashing of teeth.
    I see David’s confused expression, and I insert myself between them. “Dad … what are you doing here?”
    â€œThought I’d stop by and see my girl at work.”
    â€œSo you two have met?” I look from my father to David and back again.
    â€œWell, as they say in Texas, we’ve howdied but we haven’t shook yet,” my father says.
    I roll my eyes. “David, this is my dad. He’s in town visiting.”
    My father holds out a hand. “Jack Healy. Damn glad to meet you, David.”
    â€œLikewise, Jack.” David looks toward me, confused, and I just shake my head as if to say: I’ll explain later .
    I change the subject by asking, “So, what was so funny?” I hope Dad hasn’t been telling childhood stories about me. Having these two in the same room together doesn’t feel right.
    â€œYour dad was telling me that this store used to be a bar, years ago,” David says.
    â€œThe Rusty Nail,” my dad adds. “And, boy, did I lose many a night here.”
    I take Dad’s arm and try to maneuver him out of the store. “Thanks for stopping by,” I say, “but we’ve got a lot of work to do.”
    â€œSure, no problem. How about us three grab a meal sometime? What do you say, David? I’d love to thank you for all you’ve done for Katie here.”
    â€œI’d like that,” David says.
    I steer Dad toward the doors and outside. “You shouldn’t have come here without asking me first,” I say. “You can’t just show up where I work like this.”
    â€œIt wasn’t planned,” he says. “I was just walking down the street, and here it was. David seems like a great guy.”
    â€œYes, he is.”
    â€œIsn’t there someone else I still need to meet? Alex, perhaps?” Dad asks with a grin.
    â€œNo.”
    The grin widens. “You know what? I’m feeling kinda hungry. I hear the Lithia Food Co-Op has a killer deli.” He turns and starts walking.
    â€œWait!” I call him back. “Listen, if this is your way of being a part of my life, it’s not working. You can’t go around stalking all my friends. It’s weird.”
    He looks genuinely surprised. “Sorry, Katie, I didn’t realize. I know you’re busy and just thought I’d break the ice, you know? I’m still looking for work and may not be here long. I just want to get to know you and the people you spend time with, that’s all.”
    â€œWell, stop it. You’ll meet Alex when I’m ready for you to meet Alex.”
    He holds up his hands. “Whatever you say, Scooter, whatever you say.”
    â€œAnd don’t call me that.”
    â€œGot it.”
    He flashes me another grin and heads up the street, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. I’m left standing stunned on the sidewalk. A year ago, my tone of voice would’ve earned me a slap across the face, if not a punch.