He looked fragile in his chair, sicker than he should be. I wanted to drag him back to the car and drive away from here as fast as I could. He didn’t belong here. This place was for dying people. Sick people. And even though I knew my dad was both of those things, I refused to come to terms with them.
“Why?” I responded to his last comment. “Because I’m so nurturing?” I tapped my fingers on the back of his arm to prove my point. Dad hadn’t wanted me to come today. He didn’t want me to remember him like this, “strapped to a chair with tubes sticking out of me every which way.” But I’d insisted. I was a coward in a lot of ways, but this wasn’t one of them.
Not when it came to my dad.
He peeled one eye open again. “Well, yes. You’ve always been so quick to help others. Heal those that needed to be healed. Save those that needed saving.” He smiled softly, finally giving into the conversation and opening both eyes. “Remember when Vann got mono? I would have accidentally killed the boy had it not been for you.”
I smiled too. He wasn’t lying. Vann had been sick for over a week before my dad had taken him to the doctor. And it was only after I’d logged his symptoms and convinced them both that Vann wasn’t getting better. Then I’d missed three days of school to take care of my older brother so Dad could work.
I’d been fourteen at the time. Even then I knew that Dad hadn’t been neglecting Vann. He couldn’t stand the sickness, watching someone else suffer. Vann was just like him.
That left me. I wasn’t nurturing because I wanted to be. I learned to be nurturing because I had to be.
“Well, I’m amazing, what can I say?”
His mouth quirked up in a tired smile. “That you are, baby girl.”
I rubbed my hands over my thighs, then tucked my feet into my gray maxi skirt. The chemo center was freezing compared to the brutal heat outside. I’d dressed to spend the morning with Dad and the afternoon in my truck, prepping for tonight, but my scoop neck black tee wasn’t cutting it. “So, other than being nurturing, why else should I have been?”
He settled back in his chair, adjusting until he was comfortable. For a minute, I didn’t think he was going to answer me. And when he did, it was not the answer I expected. “It’s a stable job, Vera. You wouldn’t have to stress like you do.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back in my chair, mimicking his position, but not on purpose. I tried to smile, but it was wobbly and weak. “I’m pretty sure nurses get stressed out too. Especially dealing with difficult patients like you.” I took a deep breath, sensing he needed reassurance over sass. Gentling my tone, but adding steel, I promised, “I love what I do, Dad. I love cooking.”
He made a sound in the back of his throat that made me feel like he didn’t believe me. “I worry about you. I worry about what will happen to you when I’m gone.”
“So don’t go anywhere,” I dared him stubbornly.
He shook his head and looked at me once again. “I’m doing my best here.”
Breath whooshed out of me, emptying my chest with a defeated sigh. “I know.” I cleared my throat and tried to take away some of the heaviness of the conversation. “The food truck is doing fine, old man. I’m figuring it out.”
His mouth pressed into a hard frown. Apparently, that wasn’t enough to erase his fears. “The food truck was never what you wanted, kiddo. What happened to working in a restaurant? You spent all your money in Europe and came back with funny ideas.”
My gladiator sandals were suddenly the most interesting thing in the room. I’d come back from Europe to be with him. If Dad hadn’t gotten sick, I didn’t know that I would have ever returned. I would have cooked my life away with cash under the table in ancient, greasy kitchens where nobody recognized my ex-boyfriend’s name.
“I came back from Europe to settle down.”
“You were settled down,” he reminded me. “Isn’t that what you were doing with that stuck-up boyfriend?”
I shivered at the memory of Derrek, a sickly feeling rolling over my spine and curdling in my stomach. “Derrek was a mistake.”
“And what was Europe?”
My salvation. But I didn’t say that out loud.
Dad had never given me a hard time about Europe before. He’d barely said anything about Derrek, even though I knew he didn’t like him. So, what was this all about?
I held onto my patience, but barely. “Europe was an effort to expand my craft.”
“So you could open a food truck? I love you, Vera, but I’m not going to be around forever. I just...” His expression changed, twisting with grief and regret and something that hurt to look at. When my heart squeezed, and it became hard to swallow, I realized it was fear. My dad was afraid for me. “I just want to know that you’re going to be okay.”
“I’m fine.” And I tried to sound fine. I thought I might have even pulled it off.
But dad’s pained expression only darkened and the pang in my chest only sharpened. “No, you’re not, baby girl. I don’t know what you’re keeping to yourself, but those demons must be pretty evil for you to have run all the way across an ocean to get away from them. I’m sorry I made you come back.”
“You didn’t make me,” I whispered, but neither of us was convinced. “I wouldn’t give up this time with you for anything.”
That didn’t appease him. Before we could continue our conversation, though, Leanne stopped by to check on him. When she asked how he was doing, he asked for a blanket. “And one for my daughter too. She’s bound and determined to see this through with me, but she shouldn’t have to turn into a popsicle.”
Leanne smiled at me, kindness shining through for my commitment to my dad. “I’ll be right back.”
When she’d walked away again, I surprised myself by admitting, “I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time.” Dad focused on me, searching my face for the truth. “And when Derrek and I ended… or even before we ended, I wasn’t sure that I would ever be happy again. Europe helped. I won’t ever regret going. I can’t regret it, not when it did so much to help me move on. But I’m glad that I’m back. I’m glad I get to spend so much time with you and Vann. I’m glad that Molly and I are in the same city again. And I love my food truck. Honestly, Dad. I’m not as much of a tragedy as you think I am.”
My confession helped him relax. His shoulders lost their rigid lines, and his barrel of a chest breathed easier. “I love you, Vera. More than anything in this world. I’m fighting this damn disease the best I can, but if I can’t win, I just need you to know that you deserve all the great things in this life. You don’t ever need to settle, baby girl. Not ever.”
Hot tears pricked at my eyes, quickly spilling over my lashes to my cheeks. I tried discretely to brush them away, but they just kept falling. “I love you too, Daddy,” I sniffled. “You’ve already given me great things. You should never worry about that. I have them. And because of you, I have my truck too. If you’re worried about me being prepared to be on my own, I am. You made sure of that.”
And as I said the words, I realized they were true. I had been stupid with Derrek, but not because my dad hadn’t taught me better. He had. He’d made sure I knew how to be a successful adult.