“Thank you, Bowie. See you soon.”
He laid the phone in the console, took a right turn and headed for Larry’s Drive-In to get their food. He added two burgers, fries and a chocolate malt to go with the vanilla malt he ordered for Talia. Maybe he could tempt her to eat something, too.
While she was waiting for Bowie, Talia went to change her shirt and brush her hair. It had been so long since she cared what she looked like that it almost felt foreign to feel that way now.
She glanced in the mirror as she put her hair back into a quick ponytail, and then stopped and looked—really looked—at what caring for her father had done to her.
She was at least twenty pounds underweight. She looked as tired as she felt, and she could see the faint tic of a muscle near her left eye. She laid down the hairbrush and walked out of the bathroom straight to her father’s bedside.
Marshall Champion used to stand six feet tall in his bare feet, with a head of thick, curly brown hair he kept short. His body had been strong and muscular from all his years working on the railroad. But that was then, and this was now, and Talia could no longer see her father in the man lying in this bed. He was a shell of who he’d been, and she was so grateful for him that this hell was finally coming to an end.
“Hey, Dad, Bowie is coming to see us,” she said, as she patted his arm, then straightened the edge of his covers and smoothed back the tiny wisps of the hair he had left.
Suddenly he exhaled so loudly that it startled her. She stood stock-still for a few moments, her heart pounding as she waited for him to take that next breath. Just when she thought it wasn’t going to happen, she saw his eyelids flutter, and then she heard him inhale.
She sighed. He was still fighting the good fight.
“I’m here, Dad. For as long as you need me, I’m here,” she whispered, then kissed his forehead and eased down in the chair beside his bed.
She didn’t mean to fall asleep, but she did. The next thing she knew, someone was knocking at the door. She stood abruptly, checked on her father and then headed for the door.
Bowie’s hands were full as he leaned in and kissed her instead of saying hello. He handed her the malt and carried the rest inside, smiling to himself when she closed her eyes at that first sip. Then he glanced toward the bed.
“How’s it going today?”
“He’s still here,” she said softly.
“Where do you want to eat?” he asked. “I’m good with in here if you want to stay close.”
She nodded, and pointed to the sofa.
“You can use the coffee table.”
He put down the food and waited for her to settle, then sat beside her and began unwrapping the burgers. He laid the fries out close to her, then put one in her mouth before he took a bite of his burger.
They ate without talking.
Bowie could tell by her red-rimmed eyes that if she had to talk she was going to cry, and he wanted to get as much sustenance in her as he could beforehand.
For Talia, it had been so long since she’d allowed herself to feel that now it was all overwhelming her. Bowie had brought her back to life when he’d forgiven her for the lie. The fact that he still wanted her hadn’t really sunk in. Everything she was feeling now felt new: the cold, sweet taste of ice cream on her tongue, and the savory bite of salt on the fries. She could feel the warmth of Bowie’s body as she leaned against it and absorbed the gentleness of his presence as proof she wasn’t dreaming. When he coaxed her to eat a few more fries, she did so to please him, and all the while she could hear her father’s unsteady breathing and the occasional rattle in his chest.
“You eat the other burger, too,” she said.
He frowned. “Are you sure you don’t want at least a few bites?”
“I’m sure,” she said, then pushed the food aside and allowed herself to look, really look, at Bowie. He was still so beautiful in her eyes. She remembered how much she loved making love with him. One day it would happen again. The thought was a promise to hold on to.
“The malt was so good. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” But when he saw tears pooling in her eyes, he opened his arms. “Come here to me,” he said gently.
Talia swallowed past the knot in her throat and wrapped her arms around his neck. When she did, he pulled her into his lap. She laid her head against his shoulder, then flattened her hand over the strong steady beat of his heart. His strength was what was pulling her back into the land of the living.
“He’s worse, isn’t he?” Bowie asked.
She nodded.
He held her just a little bit tighter. “Is your hospice nurse coming today?”
“Yes. I called her.”
“Because...?”
She lowered her voice to a whisper so her father couldn’t possibly hear.
“Because I think today he will die.”
Bowie felt her shaking.