Standing By

Better Together

(Adam)

I am a headstrong person. Always have been, always will be. If I want to do something, I will jump for it and I will push through whatever obstacles life may throw at me. Throw right back at them. I like to believe I wouldn't be where I am if it wasn't for this everlasting tenacity that propels me forward.

I am also an exceedingly loyal person. If I consider someone my friend, I will move heaven and earth for them. I would do whatever it takes to help a friend in need, and there will be no holding me back. And frankly, I had a friend in need. Must. Get down. To. Nashville. I'd been more or less forced to stay put thus far, but as soon as I had those discharge papers in my hot little hand (ugh, never using that phrase again) and Mom, Dad, Tristin, Ericha, and Chris were carting me home, I was on the phone.

"Hey, Rob, it's me. I'm being discharged home, so I'm—," I started, readjusting a bandage that was flapping around and irritating me.

"Hey, that's great news!" Rob told me jubilantly. "Kels! Adam's getting discharged today!"

I heard her wooting in the background. Grinning, I barreled on. "I want to go down to Nashville. Tim's preliminary hearing is tomorrow and I want to, no, I need to, be there for him. Do you wanna—"

"Count me in," Rob said without me even having to finish the sentence.

Mom turned to look at me. "Adam, is that even smart? You only just got discharged from the hospital?"

"The doctors think I'm stable enough to not have to stay in the hospital, so I'm OK. I have to be there, Mom."

"The only thing you have to do, young man, is recuperate," Dad told me dryly.

Chris poked me, but I ignored him, rolling my eyes at Dad. Young man? Seriously? I was a grown man, with a family of my own. I was more than capable of making my own decisions. Chris poked me in the side again and I batted at him with my good hand. "Dad," I began exasperatedly. "I am well on my way to recuperating. Right now I have a very good friend who is getting ready to go on trial for a crime he did not commit, and I will not idly sit by! I refuse to let him go through this alone. Ow, Chris, quit poking me!"

"Adam, honey, your heart is in the right place—," Ericha started, only to have Tristan finish her thought: "You need to take care of yourself first."

"I am not—," I tried to get in a word as everyone else was throwing in their opinions at once.

"And I refuse to let you go right now," Dad stated, turning the SUV down the road.

"Christopher, leave your brother alone!" Mom snapped at Chris, who was getting ready to poke me again. He started sputtering incomprehensibly.

"Dad, no offense, but I don't need your permission. I am 35 years old. I can make my own decisions. And I am not the most important person in the world," I argued, irritated he was treating me like a child.

Apparently, so was Chris. "Don't Christopher me. I'm not trying to hurt him or pester him mindlessly. I'm trying to get his attention. And you are taking it all here."

"You are to me," Dad told me quietly.

That took the wind out of my sail. There's no argument for that, and there's no good rebuttal to that. I paused and took a breath. I was getting worked up; he was getting worked up; Chris was getting worked up; we were all getting worked up. Dad was only trying to look out for me after all. I'd scared the crap out of him once. "Dan, I'm sorry. I don't mean to yell at you."

"Thank you for apologizing." He nodded at me.

"Adam?" Rob ventured over the phone.

"Sorry, Rob, bit of a disagreement here—what, Chris?" I struggled to keep the irritation out of my voice as he poked me again.