Dad shook his head and grumbled, crossing his arms as the nurse scribbled on the tablet. I stayed quiet, hoping he would accept the seriousness of the situation since it came from a nurse, and, not for the first time, wished one of my younger sisters was here to share some of the responsibility.
“If he doesn’t stick to the prescribed plan, the surgery will have been for nothing.” She shook her head and arched a brow, looking between us.
“Don’t blame my daughter for the inadequacies of my diet. I’ve made plenty of changes, but the damn surgery was less than a month ago. If I want to have real bacon once in a while, I sure as hell will. Ninety-five percent of the time, I eat like a neurotic rabbit with body image issues.”
I smiled, and Dad winked. Things were still a little tense, but we had a pleasant talk and cleared the air after the Saturday drama. The snark and frustration were still present, but this last week had been easier than the entire first month after I moved in.
“Perhaps the doctor will have an easier time impressing the importance of the diet to you both,” she said with a harsh tone that was not at all impressed with Dad’s pushback.
I rolled my eyes, stomach grumbling from the entirely useless breakfast I had before we’d left the house for this appointment. What idiot thought a quarter of an egg-white omelet with spinach and fake cheese was adequate for anything? I sighed, because it was me. I was that idiot.
“Thank you for the reminder about eating well,” I interjected before she could lecture us any further, “but I would like to point out that Dad’s heart condition and surgery was largely because of his irregular heart rhythm and not blocked arteries from eating poorly.”
I was letting my hunger control my attitude, but how could I not snap back when this nurse stepped into the room with her pretentious notepad and drawn on eyebrows, and proceeded to bombard us with her self-righteousness?
“Hmm, I see that in the notes,” she said, giving us a tight smile. “So, how is he handling the new medication? Any side effects or mood changes that need to be reported?”
“He,” Dad said, raising his hand and waving it at the nurse, “is not yet an elderly invalid and is more than capable of answering your questions.”
“Yes, sir,” the nurse said, her voice shifting from patronizing to formal with a tight smile.
I leaned against the wall with my arms crossed, wearing an unreadable expression as the source of Dad’s frustration came to light.Hefelt helpless, like he wasn’t in control of his life anymore. And the way he dealt with that realization was to lash out.
It wasn’t an excuse for the underlying tension within our relationship, but I still smiled, finally grasping the source of the hostility. One sentence and I’d figured out the issue, and it made me wonder if things with Trey could have been fixed with a simple realization.
Nope.I refused to dwell on that man any more than what was legally required.
If my marriage taught me anything, it was that no amount of intent could fix something that was already broken. For years, I conformed to what Trey wanted. My hair. My clothes. My mannerisms. All in the vain hope of becoming good enough for him, which never happened.
A hollow feeling took root in my stomach, and I recognized my mind’s attempt to compartmentalize my feelings with Trey. It was how my brain worked—or else the walls would close in, and I would suffocate in this ridiculously abysmal room.After so long, I’d gotten very good at pushing my knee-jerk reactions down—except when I was hungry. I still spoke my mind more often than not, but I was too old, too jaded, and too perimenopausal to continue to live my life in the shadow of someone else.
Recognizing the pathetic epiphany as I leaned against the eye-watering, butterscotch yellow painted wall, I felt oddly empowered, like I could run laps around the building. I wouldn’t, of course, knowing that amount of exercise would do nothing but cause me to wheeze violently with my head between my legs. But I felt like I could, and that feeling sparked a small flame inside my chest.
Instead, I listened as Dad and the nurse went over his current medications, reviewing the side effects and the importance of eating small meals with a few of the pills. The more Dad took the lead in this appointment, the more exuberant his gestures became, until he stood from the table, the paper sheet underneath him crinkling.
I couldn’t help but smile as the nurse’s eyes became wider as he described—in detail that would make any fiction writer jealous—taking ajauntaround his neighborhood before pulling up a few resilient clovers in the front yard.
“It’s good to see you adjusting so well, sir. The doctor should be in momentarily.” She clipped the stylus to the top of the iPad and glanced at me before nodding and slipping out of the room.
When the door closed and latched, Dad sighed and ran a hand through his steel gray hair before sinking back onto the table.
I chuckled, pushing off from the wall and sitting in a chair parallel to him. “You can be quite the charmer when it suits you, old man.”
“Better to charm her with my wit than have you give her one of your vicious tongue-lashings. A vein in your temple is throbbing, and you’re going to make your lips bleed if you don’tunclench,” he said, not so subtly reminding me where my less than stellar attitude came from.
“Unclench? Really?”
“Yeah. Now, why don’t you apply some rouge or something before that doctor gets in here?”
“Rouge? Did I hit my head in the shower this morning and stumble into the twilight zone? Since when do you comment about my looks, especially using a word that went out of style forty years ago?”
I tilted my head to face him, watching as he opened and closed his mouth, likely debating between a biting comment and a snarky reply.
“There’s no need to be coy, Summer. Dr. Lucas is good-looking. Why don’t you see if he’s single?”
“Yep. The twilight zone. Either that, or my worrying thoughts have bled into this very realistic dream.” I pinched my arm as Dad scoffed, and I winced at the sting.So, not dreaming, after all.
“The last thing I’m interested in is dating, Dad. Between work, meeting with my lawyer about the inheritance, and doing things around the condo, my plate is full.”
