Dad's Surgery

Rain slammed against the bar's windows, crackling loudly. I curled up in the booth in the corner, my fingertips still damp from the mojito I'd just mixed. My phone suddenly vibrated, the screen flashing 'Harry Lincoln.' I stared at the name for three seconds before swiping to answer. "Yolanda Lincoln, where the hell have you been? Dad's been rushed to the ER!" The shouting on the other end crackled with interference, stabbing at my ears. "Aren't you working at No.1 Municipal Hospital? Don't you know a bunch of experts? Hurry up and find one!" Harry Lincoln's voice got more urgent, mixed with the noisy sounds from the hospital hallway. "Two hours! If no one steps in, Dad's done for!" His last words hit me like a stone, but left no ripples. I glanced at Terry Shawn across from me; he was sliding my wine glass a little further away. "Do it. Don't let this blow up." His voice was soft, tinged with worry. I shook my head, grabbed his phone, and opened the music playlist. The heavy metal riff drowned out Harry's voice instantly. I lazily muttered into the mic. Sorry, I can't hear you clearly. After saying that, I just hit the hang-up button. Just as I put down the phone, the screen lit up again—it was still Harry Lincoln. I simply put the phone on silent and pushed it under the booth. Let's hide out in the private room, the rain looks like it's getting heavier. Terry Shawn stood up and handed me my coat.