My dad chuckled then said, “If you say so.”
“I do.”
“Is that Elijah?”
“No, it’s Santa Claus,” Mom fired back. “Of course, it’s him.”
My mom tipped her head toward the living room, indicating I should go in there. Maegan squeezed my hand to let me know she agreed. It felt like it took me five years to work up my courage to take the first step toward the living room, but circumstances often seemed to speed time up or stretch it into long, awkward pauses.
I heard rustling in the dark corner followed by a metallic click of someone turning on a lamp. Suddenly, there was a circle of light surrounding my dad’s old, battered recliner. It seemed like not everything changed, and seeing that ancient, busted piece of furniture finally made it feel like I was home. I used to love sitting in that chair when Dad was out because it smelled of his aftershave and bore the shape of his body from many years of wear. That old thing couldn’t be comfortable, but he was too stubborn to give it up.
Then I looked at him, and I mean really looked. He’d lost so much weight his skin hung on him paper thin and white as a sheet. Dad ran his hand over his bald head like he felt uneasy then pulled his blanket higher to tuck beneath his armpits.
“Have any trouble on your trip up?” he asked, breaking the silent standoff.
“No, sir,” I said, feeling like a kid who was being interrogated for being out too long. Some might say I wasawayfor too long.
“Is this your beautiful lady your mom has been talking about these past six months?” I admit I was shocked to hear my parents talked about me or the things I discussed with Mom.
“Nah, she’s just a hitchhiker I found along the way.”
Maegan squeezed my hand then pulled it free of mine. She walked across the room and extended her hand toward him. “I’m Maegan Miracle. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Markham.”
Dad sat straighter in his chair as Maegan approached and attempted a warm smile. I had to bite my lip to keep from crying when the hand he reached out to her trembled severely. Maegan covered their joined hands with her free one to steady him. Where was the strong, invincible man who had raised me? Who was this imposter who looked to be nothing but skin and bones? Mom placed her hand between my shoulder blades to comfort and steady me which was just what I needed.
“He’s not going to die, Elijah,” she whispered.
“Damn right,” Dad said with a shaky voice he probably thought was full of bravado. “Jack Markham might bend, but he doesn’t break.” He waved me over with the hand Maegan wasn’t holding. “Maybe the ladies can go in the kitchen and have a chat so we can have some time alone.”
“Of course,” Maegan said, gently letting his hand slide from hers. She walked to me, raised up on her tiptoes, and kissed my cheek. “If you’re lucky, maybe your mom will share her pot roast secrets with me.”
“And meatloaf,” I said hopefully.
“Sounds fun,” Mom said. “Then I’ll get the photo albums out so you can see Elijah during his awkward phase.”
“Even better,” Maegan said, following Mom out of the room.
“Pull up a chair,” Dad said.
I slid an ottoman over from a club chair that I never would have picked for my mom and dad. “I’m not sure what to make of the changes,” I told him. “I never thought I’d be so happy to see your beat-up recliner.”
“It’s a good thing you like it so much because I’ve left it to you in the will.” He tried to laugh but it turned into a cough. He regained his composure after a minute and said, “Don’t be alarmed if I need to reach for my oxygen. It doesn’t mean I’m dying.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Elijah, I’m not sure where to begin, but an apology seems like a good place to start.”
Seeing him so sick and weak was horrible, and I didn’t want to cause him any more stress. On the other hand, I needed to hear the words if there was a sliver of a chance for us to repair our broken relationship.
“There are many things I want to apologize for, but the most important one is that I ever made you feel that you weren’t good enough the way you were. Allowing you to mold yourself into a soldier because you thought it’s what I wanted was just wrong. I should’ve told you I was proud of you for more important things like when you won awards in elementary school for character and citizenship. I should have had tears of pride in my eyes when you were inducted into the National Honor Society and not the sports hall of fame at the high school.” Dad paused to cough again, and I handed him the glass of water from the small table beside his recliner. “Would you look at how tiny this table is?” he said. “It’s barely big enough for a glass of water and the TV guide, but Brenda had to have it because it matched the other pieces.”
“I think it’s pretty miraculous she let you keep the recliner.”
“No one tells a man with cancer he can’t have his favorite chair.”
“There’s that,” I said, tipping my head to the side.
“The things I said to you in your hospital bed…” Dad’s words drifted off, and he swallowed hard. I wanted to tell him he didn’t have to apologize for every little slight against me, but damn it, I needed him to be sorry. Nobody had ever hurt me like he had, not even Jack who had slept with my wife. “I spoke unforgivable words that day, and I’ve regretted nothing more in my life. I never should’ve implied you needed to suck it up and move on. I was scared I would lose my sons, and I did lose one of them.”
