Thanks for the dagger to the heart, Dad.
“Oh, I get it.” My mom elbows my dad but gets him right in the ribs, and he holds his side.
“You definitely have your strength back,” he says.
They both laugh.
“So you’re actually together, but you’re telling people it’s fake in case it doesn’t work out. Like a no-pressure thing.” My mom taps her temple. “Sorry, Hayes, you can’t fool me,” she singsongs.
“Mom, I’m serious, it’s fake.”
She winks. “Okay, sweetie.” She mimes zipping her lips shut and throwing away the key.
My dad pretends to catch the key and put it in his pocket.
I shake my head. “Mom, seriously, it’s not real.”
“And I said okay.” She exaggerates a wink.
“Guys—”
“Jennifer Carlisle, for Dr. Apostolos.”
My mom stands, and my dad joins her. Before she walks over to the woman who called her name, Mom bends down and pinches my cheek. “I, for one, couldn’t be happier that you’re not dating Leighton.”
She winks—again—and walks to the other side of the waiting room.
“Hi, Margot.” My mom crosses her fingers. “Today’s the day.”
I walk over and join them.
My dad puts his hand on my shoulder. “This is our son, Hayes Carlisle, the catcher for the Colts.”
“But he’s got a girlfriend, so hands off.” My mom chuckles.
We file through the door, and if no one knew it was me, they do now.
Thanks, Mom and Dad.
We walk out of the doctor’s office, full of gratitude and excitement that the scans showed no sign of cancer. We were all so happy that my parents hugged the doctor at the same time and waved me in to join. Dr. Apostolos will probably never forget that moment. He doesn’t seem like a touchy-feely guy, but my parents didn’t give him much of a choice.
“Let’s go celebrate,” my dad says, a huge smile on his face.
“Our usual?” Mom and Dad smile at one another, and I’m clearly missing the inside joke.
“My treat, where are we going?” I’ll take them wherever they want. It was a challenging year, and since I wasn’t here enough, I want to make today memorable.
“What floor is it on?” my dad asks, standing in front of the elevators.
“Second is the walkway to the garage, but we’ll just take an Uber to the restaurant and come back here for you guys to get your car.” I press the down button.
“I think it’s on third,” my mom says.
“No, it’s on the second,” I say.
“The cafeteria is on the second floor?” My dad’s forehead wrinkles.
“Cafeteria?” I look between them. “That’s where you want to celebrate?”
