“Dr. Randolph,” he says.
“This is my son, Camden,” Dad says.
“Nice to meet you.” I tip my head slightly. “Thank you for taking such good care of my dad, Dr. Randolph.”
“He makes it easy,” the doctor says, smiling at my dad. “You’re doing well, Everett,” he adds. “Blood counts are up. There are still a few markers we’ll continue to track, but I’m encouraged.”
Dad’s expression doesn’t change, but I feel the breath he lets out.
“We’ll keep watching, but keep doing what you’ve been doing,” the doctor says. “You seem more relaxed…happier.”
Dad’s mouth twitches. “I’ve got my kids back. Well, they’re not all back full-time, but I’m getting more visits from the ones who are out of state.” He points at me and grins. “This one even moved back from Colorado.”
“Oh, that’s great,” the doctor says. “I’ve been hearing good things about your new restaurant in Windy Harbor. I’ll have to make my way there to try it out sometime.”
“That’d be great,” I say.
My dad squeezes my shoulder. “It’s worth the drive, I promise you that.”
“Says my dad,” I tease.
“Your dad’s not the only one,” Dr. Randolph says, chuckling. “My wife and I are foodies, and we’ve heard your name floating around town quite a bit. We’d actually hoped to get out to your restaurant in Colorado one of these days too, but this is much more convenient.”
“I’m flattered, thank you. Whitman’s will still be there, should you get out that way, but yeah, come to Windy Harbor when you get a chance. Let me or my staff know when you do, and the meal will be covered every time.”
“I couldn’t,” he protests, and I hold up my hand.
“It’s the least I can do. You’ve helped my dad so much. My family and I are so grateful.”
“Well, like I said, Everett makes it easy. I don’t think there’s a more likable guy out there.”
He smiles at my dad, and after my dad makes his rounds thanking everyone in the office, we leave with an appointment to follow up in six weeks.
When I pull onto the highway, Dad leans his head back and lets out a small sigh.
“What a beautiful day,” he says. “You know, when your mother died, I wasn’t sure I could live without her. I didn’twantto live without her.” He glances at me apologetically. “It was you kids who kept me going. I don’t think I ever thanked you properly for that.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “You don’t need to thank me for that, Dad. None of us could’ve gotten through losing Mom without each other.”
“Not so long ago, I wasn’t sure I’d be around to experience much more. I don’t know how much time I have left, but I intend on enjoying every second. I want to be around for whatever comes, but no one lives forever, so when I go, you kids stick together.”
I sigh and glance at him. “I hate it when you talk like this.”
He grins. “I know, I know, but some things just have to be said.”
“Okay, Dad, I promise we’ll stick together. It helps that we all love each other.”
He chuckles. “Yes, it does.”
By the time we pull into our driveway, the trees have that sun-dappled glow, and the sky is a combination of pinks and golds over the lake. Dad stares out at the view like he’s drinking it in.
“Looks like everyone’s here,” I say as I park.
Kevin, the Havanese Goldie brought home a few months ago, yaps at the door like he’s been waiting for Dad all day. He has ahard time deciding who he’s most obsessed with—Goldie or Dad. Since Dad is the one who named him and Kevin seemed to know Dad needed the extra love while he was going through chemo, I think he leans slightly more toward Dad.
He twirls so fast and his tail wags so hard that it throws off his balance. When I open the door, he launches himself at Dad, whose laugh barrels through the entryway.
I should’ve told the doctor about Kevin. I’d say he’s had as much to do with Dad’s happiness as my siblings and I have.
