“Already on it. It will be here in twenty,” Cora says, heading into the living room.
Grace comes to stand beside me. “Are you okay with us being here? We would have asked, but we figured you would say no.”
“I would have. My dad isn’t always the easiest to deal with. He gets agitated and lashes out. I don’t expect anyone else to deal with that.”
Peyton comes over to stand on my other side. “You don’t have to go through this alone. We are here for you, and we can handle it. He’s family. We won’t think anything differently of him or you based on any of his actions. He is living with a disease that we cannot fathom. The least we can do is treat him like a human being and continue to live as if everything is okay.”
“Thanks, guys. Really. This means a lot,” I tell them, sniffling.
“No crying. You’ll make me cry,” Grace says.
I hug her, with Peyton hugging both of us.
“Group hugging without me? I see how it is,” Cora jokes, but she comes to join when Grace opens her arms.
It’s in this moment that I realize nothing I experienced before was real. This right here is real friendship. A sisterhood that I searched for without even knowing I needed it so badly.
I will never be happy about Dad’s disease, but the silver lining is the lessons it has taught me. The ones it continues to teach me.
His suffering isn’t in vain.
“I put the sports channel on. The game should be on soon. I’m hoping they show some of the pre-game stuff,” Cora says as we all step back and make our way into the living room.
“Lyla? What’s going on?” Dad asks, his eyes groggy as we step into the living room.
My heart breaks over the fact he just said my name. Of course this is the moment he chooses to have a moment of clarity.
“These are my friends Grace, Peyton, and Cora. We are going to watch the Wolves’ hockey game together.”
“I’m hungry,” he grunts.
“Food will be here soon. Can I get you anything until then?”
He shakes his head.
We all take a seat and start to chat, but what surprises me is that Cora doesn’t chat with us. She focuses on my dad.
“I heard you used to do construction. I was wondering if you knew anything about electricity,” I hear her ask.
“Sure do. Wired my house myself. Not this one. We had to sell the house I built.” He frowns.
Before he can fall into a depression like he does whenever he thinks about all he has lost, Cora continues on.
“My bathroom outlet won’t work. It seems to have power to it, but it refuses to work.”
Dad lights up as he starts to offer solutions to her.
“I’m glad he is lucid right now. You get to meet him on a good day,” I tell the girls.
“Cora used to volunteer at the nursing home back in high school,” Grace tells me. “She spent a lot of time with people with his condition.”
I look over and see Cora in a new light.
“Is her outlet even broken?” I ask.
Peyton smiles, shaking her head. “Nope.”
My eyes tear as I look up at the ceiling, willing them away. Cora will never know how much it means to me that she is giving my dad attention. None of the girls are treating him like a nuisance. They are joining in and asking their own questions.
