I leave the conversation on my phone as is and tend to my unanswered emails. However, the moment my eyes scan the list of subject lines with question marks, the exhaustion I’ve been fighting falls over me like a heavy blanket, and I turn my display off.
"I wish there was a magical cure for Dad," I say, aware of how childish my statement sounds. "You’d think in this day of modern medicine, we’d have something like this, right?"
"I wish we did," Mom says.
A nurse pops her head in the room. "Thank you so much for the wonderful muffins you brought, Mrs. Quinn. It brightened my morning," she says, with an angelic smile.
"Of course, dear, I’ll bring more tomorrow."
The nurse smiles and gives me a quick wave before moving on. "You’re going to run yourself into the ground, Mom. It’s a lot of work to keep baking.”
"I know, but if I stop moving, I willstart to think," she says, clearly knowing the reason for what she’s been doing.
I return my focus to Dad, wondering if he will ever wake up or if he’ll pass in his sleep. I don’t want to ask the question out loud, but will he wake up? Is this it?
A knock on the door startles me, and I realize I dozed off for a few minutes, somehow remaining still on this rolling stool.
I recognize the couple in the doorway as Mr. and Mrs. Pearson—Elizabeth and Bill. They’re much older than I remember, but still look healthy and happy. Mom perks up as they enter the room and she stands from her seat as Elizabeth folds her into her arms. "Oh, Marion," Elizabeth sighs. "I don’t even know what to say."
"There really aren’t words," Mom tells her. "Thank you for visiting, though."
"Of course," she says, taking Mom’s hand and helping her back down into her seat.
Bill walks over to Dad’s side and takes his hand between his and closes his eyes, muttering words we can’t hear—a silent prayer, I assume. "Harold, you’re like a brother to me, and I wish I could help you," he says.
After a moment, Bill places Dad’s hand back down and makes his way over to me first. Journey is awake now, but silently taking in the scene.
"Melody, look at you—all grown up. It’s been years since I’ve seen you, kiddo," he says, pulling me from my stool to give me a hug. His embrace is tight,warm, and makes my chest feel weak. He smells like Dad. "Your father told me you had gone off to live with the man you were going to marry." Bill presses his hands into my shoulders and pulls back to look into my eyes.
"I’m not going to marry Ace, and I’ve moved home now.” I wish I didn’t have to keep repeating this story. I wish my story would just go away, or at the very least, stay in South Carolina like Ace did.
"Well, I always say, what’s meant to be will always find a way, right?"
I nod and try to offer a friendly smile. "Right."
Bill shuffles his foot toward Journey and nudges her right boot. "Get any good gigs lately? If I didn’t know better, I would have thought you moved out of town too. Your dad told me you’re getting a lot of attention for your photography now."
Journey shrugs with little expression. "Eh, I get around. I think Dad likes to brag," she says.
"I’m sure you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You know, I commend you for having a career you’re passionate about. Both of you. With the many paths in life you can take, you’re both doing a fine job from what I’ve heard."
I wonder if he’s saying this because both of his sons are single dads. I’m not sure any parent has a dream of watching their kid live like this, but what do I know?
As if my thoughts are shared out loud, I hear Elizabeth telling Mom that Parker is seven, and Hannah is ten going on twenty.
"It must be so nice to have grandkids around, though," Mom tells her. I know it wasn’t an intentional hint, or if she even intended for me to hear her, but I heard it, and feel sorry I haven’t given Mom grandchildren yet.
Dad will never meet his grandkids.
Elizabeth chuckles. "Well, they’re a handful. Or, Hannah is a handful. Parker, I worry about a lot. She’s quiet and keeps to herself—she’s been through a lot, though."
I wonder if Mom knows what Parker has been through. She must. I can’t imagine Elizabeth and Bill wouldn’t have mentioned it over the years.
"How is Brett holding up?" Mom asks.
Elizabeth smileswith a sense of pride. "I never imagined seeing him playing this role in life, but he’s a natural. He’s incredible with Parker."
"That’s wonderful," Mom says.
