The Exception by Lauren H. Mae
Ten
The new Mrs. Dr. Jack Travis certainly liked to talk. Trav could count on one hand the number of times she’d taken a breath in the hour since he arrived at his dad’s house in North Arlington. He was fine with it, though. If Shelly’s endless prattling stopped his dad from criticizing everything about his life, he could endure it all night long.
“How’s the new place,” she asked.
“It’s good. Empty but I’m working on it. I’m still sleeping on an air mattress my buddy left me.”
Shelly laughed but Jack shook his head and sipped from his rocks glass. “Surely, you have enough money packed away to buy some furniture. You’re not living communally any longer. Buy a damn bed.”
Trav had definitely noticed the difference between living with a bunch of guys and the solitary existence he was living now. After the glow of having space and a private bathroom wore off, he wasn’t so sure he was made for it.
“Yeah. Okay, Dad,” he said, restraining any further arguing.
Shelly glanced nervously between them. “You must be glad to be home, though. Right Ben?”
He knew she meant home in the general sense, but he couldn’t help but look around the dining room of the house where he’d grown up but not set foot in since he was eighteen years old. It wasn’t like he remembered it, but that was to be expected. Every Mrs. Travis put her own stamp on the house, so gone was Marielle’s cozy comfort, replaced by something out of Real Housewives.
Embarrassed that thanks to Tif he was even able to make that connection, he tried to focus on Shelly.
“I am, and please call me Trav.”
His father’s annoyed sigh reached them from the other end of the table. “Don’t indulge him, dear. His name is Benjamin but he insists on being called by that ridiculous nickname.”
Ignoring his dad, he said, “In the army, everybody goes by their last name. I guess I just got used to it.”
Shelly patted his arm and smiled as wide as the Botox would allow. “When your father told me you were off fighting for our country, I was just as proud of you as if you were my own son.”
“Thanks, Shelly. That’s sweet of you to say.” She seemed like a nice lady and he wondered what, if anything, she saw in his dad other than his money.
His father snorted. “I still don’t understand why you got out. You were already a special forces sergeant making more than the average paramedic.”
Apparently, this nice family dinner was going to turn into exactly what he’d expected when he’d gotten the invite.
“We all can’t be renowned neurologists like you, Dad. I served my country and now I want to help people in my community. It’s not about the money.”
“It’s always ‘not about the money’ until you can’t pay your bills.”
There was no point in explaining to his dad that most of the money he’d earned over a decade in the army had gone straight into an investment account on the advice of a guy he’d met in boot camp. He still had a decent nest egg even after putting a nice down payment on the townhouse and buying his truck, but as far as his dad was concerned, it wouldn’t be enough.
He laughed in an effort to keep things light. “Don’t worry. I won’t need to ask you for any money.”
If he had to work twenty-three hours a day, he’d make sure that statement stayed true.
“We’ll see about that. Either way, I am glad to see you doing something with your life, even if you could’ve been so much more.”
More.It was always more with his dad. It didn’t matter that he’d earned distinguished service medals while serving, or that he was committed to using the skills he’d learned to continue helping people. All that mattered to Jack Travis was that his son hadn’t picked a path he could brag about to his friends.
Trying his best to not let his dad get to him, Trav pushed his food around on his plate, wondering how long he had to stay so he wouldn’t be accused of eating and running.
His father cleared his throat. “How are things with your preceptor since our chat?”
He tried his best to stifle the glare he wanted to shoot across the table. That little stunt had been more than a little infuriating. Though, he couldn’t help but notice after his father had left, it was the first time Nurse Pope had spoken to him like he was more than a thorn in her side. He knew she wasn’t the type to be swayed by his father’s theatrics, and that was the last thing he wanted, but it didn’t suck to know he wasn’t her least favorite member of the Travis family anymore.
“Things are fine,” he replied. “So that can be the last of your meddling.”
His father gave him an indulgent smile. “I don’t have to remind you that you’re coming into my hospital and there are certain expectations that go along with the Travis name.”
Trav had done everything except crawl on his hands and knees and beg to avoid having to do his practical rotation at the hospital where his father was on the board. Now, he was wondering if his pride could’ve taken the hit just to avoid this conversation.
He bit out, “I am aware.”
His father peered at him over the rim of his glasses just like he always had when he was lecturing him about any mistake he’d made. “Don’t act like I’m out of line for being concerned after what happened before.”
Trav stared at his plate as memories of the seventeen-year-old version of himself, angry and looking for ways to undercut his father’s already low expectations of him, flooded his mind. He’d definitely been looking for attention with the friends he chose, and the things he did, and when it all came to a head, he deserved every bit of the consequences he endured. But didn’t he deserve at least some credit for turning it around?
“That was a long time ago.”
Incredulous, his father asked, “Is that supposed to make what you did okay?”
Trav shrugged. “No. I just thought it would’ve earned me some grace. I’m not a kid anymore.”
“I was prepared to call in every favor I had to get you into Virginia Tech—my alma mater, but you chose to just throw it all away.”
“How could I forget? You remind me every chance you get,” Trav grumbled.
Jack laughed humorlessly. “Maybe remembering how you messed up your life in ways I couldn’t have imagined will prevent you from making the same mistakes again.”
“You look at me going into the army as me messing up my life, I look at it as the best thing I ever did,” he argued.
“It’s not about the army. We’ve had military men in this family before, but they were officers out of VMI, not disappointments who had to join the service as a last resort.”
The words made Trav flinch almost as if he’d been slapped. Deep down he’d known that was what his dad thought of him, but hearing it said out loud stung like a bitch.
Shelly chose that moment to try diffusing the situation by asking, “Are you boys ready for dessert? I have a cheesecake in the kitchen.”
Trav felt bad for her, but it was definitely too late for cheesecake. He rose from his chair and tossed his napkin on his plate, glaring at his father. All of that old anger came bubbling up to the surface and he needed to get out of there before his training failed him.
“Rest easy, Dad. This disappointment will make sure anything I screw up doesn’t reflect on your pristine reputation at the hospital.”
“Sit down,” his dad ordered, but after years of dealing with real commanders, it didn’t register like it would’ve in the past. “Didn’t you hear Shelly say dessert is in the kitchen?”
He pushed his chair in and gave Shelly a forced smile as her nervous gaze flicked back and forth between him and his father. None of this was her fault, and she’d obviously worked hard to plate the meals she’d ordered from whatever fancy restaurant in the city to make it seem like she’d cooked.
“Dinner was great, Shelly. It was good to finally meet you, but I can’t stay for dessert.”
After blinking a few times like she was still trying to process the kind of family she’d married into, she offered him a weak smile. “Good night, Ben. Don’t be a stranger.”
He nodded and turned his attention back to his dad. “Good night.”
He didn’t wait for a reply, and he was sitting in his truck a minute later, gripping the steering wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. He’d stopped trying to make his father proud of him a long time ago, but he’d foolishly hoped they could at least try getting along now that he was home for good. It didn’t look like that was going to be possible.