“You have done a wonderful job, darling.” He reaches out to lay his hand on the back of mine, but I wrap my arms around my middle instead. “No one will or has ever doubted that.”
“Why then?” I ask, tears spilling over. “Why now? If I’m doing a wonderful job then—”
“Because you cannot stay living like this, Prudence.” He states it simply, firmly. “Your mother wanted a full, adventurous, daring life for you. We both did.Do.You have to know—”
“I am not an adventurous, daring type of person!” I interrupt. “I want to be here. I want to stay with you. I want to be with Mom.” My mind starts moving faster than my tongue can, and I do my best to try and keep up with it. “I know I’m not always patient or calm with her but I’m trying my best and, sure, I’m not an actual nurse or doctor or psychologist or something but I’m her daughter. Her flesh and blood. Doesn’t that count for something? That I know her more than they ever could? Putting her somewhere else—” I pause to suck in a breath sharply. “Acting as if she’s a problem we need to solve instead of the, the, thebaseof this family is cruel. It’s cruel and it’s not like you and it’s not like me and it’scertainlynot what she would do, and I won’t let you do it either.”
Dad breathes in slowly, his chest rising and nostrils flaring as he blinks repeatedly. Then, he begins to nod, as his eyes drift shut. A dreadful, heavy minute of silence passes before he speaks again.
“Ineverwanted any of this. But I made a promise to your mother, darling. The night after she received her diagnosis, Isworeto her that I would never let you put your life on hold for her sake. And, you are, Prue. I’ve let you and I shouldn’t have.” He pauses, pleading for mercy with a softened look in his eyes. “You don’t go out. You don’t have friends. You don’t even mention going to school anymore, or traveling, or finding a love of your own like you used to. The most I’ve seen you think about yourself in the past month is when you steal my donut for an extra few bites.”
“I-I’ve changed, Dad. Things changed, so I did too. I don’t want those things anymore. I don’t need them. I don’t evenlikepeople.”
“We both know that’s not true,” he replies with a skeptical look, the corner of his lip dipping.I wish we’d never shared that silly journal.“The truth is I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. Making you fly the nest means losing Mom, but keeping you here means disappointing Mom by allowing you to lose yourself. She never once asked me to keep her here or take care of her until the very end. She only asked for me to make sure thatyouwere okay. And, I haven’t been doing that. I cannot keep the store running and look after her at the same time once you’re flying free.”
“I don’t want to fly free,” I tell him adamantly.
“I know it might feel that way now but—”
“No, I know,” I interrupt. “I know what I want.”
“Well, then, I’m sorry.”
“So, that’s it then?” My jaw shakes as I wipe tears from it with the gray sleeve of my sweater. “You truly thinkthisis what Mom would want?” I ask, my voice verging on mocking.
“I don’t know!” His voice rises with a quaking breath. Then, a deafening but brief, sorrowful silence falls over us. “I don’t know what she would want, and Idesperatelywish that I could ask her but, regardless, I’m trying to do what’s best for you both. What she asked of me.”
Denial and rage and heartbreak flood my chest in such quick succession, it overwhelms me entirely and renders me unable to speak. All arguments that come to mind seem pointless, like a dull knife slicing at a loaf of bread. I sniff, wiping the last remaining teardrops on my sleeve as I avoid Dad’s gaze. “All right, well…” I swallow. “If I don’t have any say in the matter, I guess I’ll just go to bed. Tell me when I need to start packing my things.”
“We have until January…” Dad whispers before I’m able tostand. “Three more months.” I turn toward him, noticing the tight grip his finger and thumb have on the bridge of his nose. “They don’t have a bed for her until then.”
So, there’s time. Hope. Chances and opportunities to change his mind. To be better.
“What if…” I ask, partially, collecting myself. “What ifbeforethen, we…” I don’t even know where to begin. “What ifI—”
My father nods, picking up my sentence from where I discard it just as he always has. “I don’t know, Prue…”
“Please.”
“If we can get to a better place by then, get some extra help around here, ifyoucan—”
“Get a life,” I interject.
That earns me a slightly crooked, subtle smile. “Yes, well, I wasn’t going to say it likethatbut…sure.”
“Then maybe she could stay with us? We could stay together?”
He studies me before replying, his eyes cautious as a sailor’s would be staring at a tempestuous ocean. Love and fear forever intertwined. “Yes…but I’ll be the judge of it, okay? No more Mister Nice Dad, darling girl. I need to start keeping those promises to your mother. I need to be a better dad to you.”
“It’s an interesting choice to start the tough-love act at twenty-four, but okay,” I say, teasing half-heartedly.
“I just want you to be happy.” My father stands and walks over to my side of the piano bench. I stand to meet him, and we both fold our arms around each other. “I’m sorry to spring this on you,” he whispers into my hair. “I’m no good at this without your mother.”
“You’re a great dad,” I say, my voice muffled by his chest.
“Ah, well, thank you, but I think I’m royally fucking it up,” he says timidly, tightening his hold. “This all came so naturally to her.”
“I’m not a kid anymore, Dad. I’m okay.”
