“I miss you, Dad.”
He’s quiet for a moment, drinking.
“What have you two been up to?”
I hear him swallow loudly, then he sucks in a sharp breath. “Lila, honey! It’s so good to hear from you. How are you? When are you coming home to see us?”
“She was just here, remember?” Mom reminds him. “She came to see us before she left for the beach.”
“The beach.” He sighs happily. “What on earth is she doing at the beach?”
“I love you, Dad,” I say, tears clogging my voice.
“I love you, too, Lila Belle. Come see us soon, okay?”
With that, Mom’s back on the phone. “He’s just tired. It’s usually not so bad.”
I try to hide my shattered heart, the tremble in my voice. “What’s his nurse saying?”
“More of the same,” she tells me. “They’re talking about trying a new medicine. Something for his veins, I think. To harden them? Or soften them? I forget. But I’m going to discuss it more with the doctor at his appointment next week. Do you think you’ll be home by then? You can come with us. You know how I get with medical stuff.”
I know how she gets—that she can’t remember what’s being told to her because it tends to overwhelm her until she shuts down—and yet, here she is, putting her life on hold for my father who walked out on her when I was just a kid. My father, who married the woman he’d had an affair with.
He was a good father. An excellent father, really. But somewhere along the line, he stopped being a good husband. In the end, after my stepmom passed away and when he started showing signs of dementia, it should’ve never been on Mom—his ex-wife—to show up for him.
And yet, she did.
Not the many girlfriends he’d had over the years, not the friends he’d disappeared to Vegas, Aspen, or Jackson Hole with.
My mother turned her life upside down for him so I wouldn’t have to, all while he’ll never be aware enough to thank her.
“I’ll be there,” I promise. “Are you taking care of yourself? Have you showered? Eaten something?”
“Oh, honey, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“I do though,” I remind her. “I do worry. I still need you, you know?” I try to make it sound like a joke, but my voice cracks again. “I need you to take care of yourself. To be happy.”
“I’m happy, honey. I promise. I’m always happy. I got the new Dolen Perkins-Valdez novel,” Mom says. “So maybe I’ll take a nice bubble bath later and dig into that.”
“You should. Let his night nurse take care of things, and you just rest. Maybe you can come with me to the beach next time.”
“That would be nice,” she says noncommittally. “You know I don’t mind being here, though. Someone should be with him. Just in case. He doesn’t know Dawn.”
The night nurse.
I want to remind her he doesn’t know anyone for long anymore, that he’d never know if she’s there or not, but I don’t. I’ve long since given up arguing with her about my dad’s care.
“Oh, speaking of, I need to go. She just got here, and I need to talk to her about his fall this morning.”
My breathing stills. “A fall? Is he okay? What happened?”
“Oh, nothing serious, just a little tumble. Don’t worry. But he’s got a bruise, and I want her to take a look at it.”
I swallow. “He’s okay, though?”
“Stubborn as ever,” she teases. “And he loves you.”
Tears well in my eyes without warning, my voice thick. “Okay, love you. Call me later if you want to talk.”
