“Bullshit,” he growled. “I’m having a rough life, which could be over, but my pain in the ass daughter won’t let me die.”
I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face now. “Daddy, please.”
But my plea fell on deaf ears because he was once again fast asleep.
“Are you okay, sweetie?” Tina asked.
I pressed my lips into a flat line and nodded.
“Have a seat. I’ll get Mr. Graves something for his nausea, then get your dad sorted.”
I nodded again, still unable to find my voice. I set my purse on the floor and sat in the chair between my dad and Mr. Graves, then linked my fingers together and tried not to completely lose it in the middle of chemo row (my dad’s not so affectionate term).
“You’re doin’ the right thing,” Mr. Graves said quietly.
“Hm?” I’d heard him, but I wasn’t quite ready to form actual words, so I pivoted slightly to look at him.
“You’re doin’ the right thing, sweetheart. Your dad’ll appreciate it. Eventually.”
Him calling me sweetheart broke me, and I grabbed my purse and stood. “Excuse me,” I rasped and rushed to the bathroom like the coward I was, bursting into tears as I leaned over the sink. It took me a good ten minutes to pull myself together and I headed back to Dad to find him still asleep, but now hooked up to his chemo.
Mr. Graves watched me closely, and his ice blue eyes seemed to see into my soul. It was both comforting and disconcerting. I gave him a slight smile and took my seat again. “I’m sorry for rushing off, Mr. Graves.” He choked on a laugh and I frowned. “Did I say something funny?”
“Sundance.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Call me Sundance. Mr. Graves is someone’s science teacher.”
I gave him a genuine smile this time. “I suppose it is, isn’t it? But it’s a good, strong name, either way.”
“I appreciate that.”
“How are you feeling?” I asked. “Can I grab you a Sprite or saltines or something?”
“I’m good, sweetheart. The nurse gave me something and it’s workin’.”
“If that changes, please let me know.” I nodded to my snoring father. “Dad’s not requiring my help right now.”
Sundance smiled. “Thanks.”
After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence… well, other than Dad’s snoring… I turned back to Sundance. “Are you always here alone?”
“No.”
When I realized I wasn’t going to get more than that, I nodded. “Oh, okay. Good.”
My phone started buzzing in my purse, so I took the lull in the wickedly inspired conversation to answer it. “Wyatt Bates.”
* * *
Sundance
Just fuckin’ kill me now.
Wyatt. Of course her name’s Wyatt. Fuckin’ sexy name for a fuckin’ sexy woman, and I’m sittin’ here looking as wrecked and as old as her father. Jesus!
I slid my beanie lower in an effort to cover more of my now almost totally bald head, wishing for my beard back to hide my expressions. My wife used to joke that if I thought real hard, my beard would grow.
