Her eyes cut across the restaurantto where Ezra had disappeared. “I’m not totally sure I know.”
“Men are weird.”
She gave me a sympathetic smile. “Ithink you might be on to something with your vow of celibacy.”
“So, are you saying you’re takingthe vow with me?”
Her head tipped back with the forceof her laughter. “No, God, no. I was just admitting that you’re smarter thanme.”
I leaned back when Shane showed upto swap our third course plates for a buffet of desserts. “Would you ladieslike to see the coffee menu?”
I winked at Molly. “Absolutely.”
ChapterTwelve
Three days later, I got a call fromVann while I was in the middle of prepping tonight’s crispy pork belly pot pie,which was not at all inspired by Killian orLilouorthe dinner Molly and I shared Tuesday night that I hadn’t stopped thinkingabout once. I wiped my hands on my apron and tucked my phone between myshoulder and chin.
“Is everything okay?” I askedinstead of a regular hello.
“I just wanted to go over everythingagain before I pick him up.”
My brother sounded scared andunsure. I could count on one hand how many times Vann had been afraid ofsomething growing up. But my dad’s illness was one of them.
Steadying my voice and doing my bestto sound casual, I explained the chemo treatment area. “You’ll be in a privateroom, so you won’t have to deal with anyone else except the nurse. There’s aTV. He’ll probably sleep through most of it.”
“And when will he get sick?
“Not until Sunday.” Dad was getting sickerwith each treatment. He’d started out handling them like a champ, but recently thetwo days following his treatment were bad.
Thankfully, I had Sunday off so Icould sit with him and wait on him when he needed me. Dad’s treatments wereusually on Tuesday, so I always took him. But this week, they asked him to comein on Friday. He had ten weeks of treatment left. Vann offered to take him today,so I could work.
Vann was quiet for so long that Ihad to look at my phone to make sure the line was still connected. “Is he goingto be okay, Vera?”
I leaned over the counter, curlingmy fingers around the edge and squeezing tightly until I was positive Iwouldn’t crumple on the ground. When I’d first come home, we’d only had to facethe diagnosis. Dad didn’t want surgery, but he’d agreed to chemo.
Fine. That was his choice. But he’dstill looked healthy. From the outside, it was impossible to tell thatsomething monstrous was destroying him from the inside out.
Now, he looked sick. Now, he lookedlike a cancer patient. Now, I wanted to beg and plead and demand he live.
“I don’t know, Vann,” I whisperedinto the phone.
He cleared his throat and changedthe subject. “Let’s have supper together Sunday night. I know dad won’t feel upfor much, but I’ll bring over chicken noodle fromRusty’sand that bread he likes.”
I pressed the back of my hand to myforehead, doing my best to hold it together. “That’s a good idea. We can play Scrabbleand watch60 Minutes.”
“This is dumb,” he groaned. “I hatethis.”
Sniffling, I agreed. “Me too. Buthe’ll be happy you’re taking him today. He’s worried you’re jealous that Imoved home.”
Vann didn’t respond to that, makingme wonder if it was true after all. “I love you, Vera.”
I didn’t know what to say for aminute. Vann and I weren’t overly demonstrative. Dad’s sickness had put thingsinto perspective for us both. “I love you too, Vann.” Then I thought ofsomething. “He likes HGTV. He’ll tell you to put on whatever you want, but hewants the house hunting and remodeling shows. Even if he’s asleep.”
Vann’s chuckle was relieved butfragile. “Midget house hunters it is.”
“I don’t think that’s what it’scalled.”
“Here he comes. I’ll call youafter.”
