I know he hasn’t been well for a while, but I didn’t think it would get to where I would be turned away, or at least have a nurse suggest I don’t bother.
I think of things my father has told me through the years, what he would do in this situation . . .
Leaning down and pressing his lips against my ear, Aaron whispers the two words that were on the tip of my tongue, the two words my dad raised us on. “Who cares?”
He gets me.
He knows my dad and loves him. This feels right.
I squeeze my eyes shut as tears drip down my face, those two words rolling around in my mind. He’s right, who cares? Taking a deep breath, I say, “I still want to see him if that’s okay.”
“Go ahead, sweetie. You know I like to prepare you.”
“I appreciate that.” I pat Heather on the forearm and turn toward my dad’s door, Aaron holding my hand tightly, following closely behind.
When we reach the door, I peek through the window and see him sitting on his bed, his back to us. What must he be thinking right now? Does he know where he is?
I turn to Aaron and say, “I’m going to go in first to see how he is. Do you mind standing out here?”
“Not at all. You do your thing, Amelia.” He squeezes my hand before letting go, giving me one last reassurance that he’s here for me. This is the first time I’ve visited with someone, and it’s incredible how less lonely it seems.
Taking a deep breath, I open the door and set my purse by the door. He doesn’t hear me, or at least he doesn’t show that he does, so I clear my throat and say, “Hey Dad, it’s Amelia.”
He stays still. Doesn’t even flinch.
Sighing, I walk forward so I’m in his line of sight. He doesn’t glance in my direction. Instead, his eyes fixate on the window in front of him.
“How are you, Dad? Heather told me you didn’t have a very good morning.”
Nothing.
“Is everything okay?”
No answer.
Well, doesn’t seem like he’s going to be responsive once again, which scrapes at the open wound of my heart. Will this be the new norm? Should I accept this truth so my heart will stop splintering in half with each attempt at conversation?
With a heavy heart, I walk to the door, open it up and spot Aaron leaning against the opposite wall, pizza and cookies still in hand. He lifts off the wall and asks, “Everything okay?”
I shake my head just as my emotions win over once again, my throat choking up on me.
“Ah, babe. Come here.” He walks up to me and wraps his arm that’s not holding the pizza around my shoulders, pulling me close into his chest.
“We should leave. Maybe we can give the pizza to the staff.”
“If that’s what you want to do, I’m good with that.” He pauses and then says, “I just want to say hi before we leave. I haven’t seen him in so long. I know he’s not the same man I used to know, but I still want to look him in the eyes, to let him know I’m sorry for the pain I put you through.”
“That’s not necessary, Aaron. He probably doesn’t remember.”
“Can I at least say hi?” His eyes plead with mine, and I can’t say no. My dad means that much to Aaron, and I’m thankful I’m with someone today who is as gutted as I am. He understands my agony.
“Of course. Set the pizza on the table inside his room and say hi.”
Aaron solemnly nods, and we walk into my dad’s room. He sets the pizza down and quickly rolls up his sleeves. I watch in fascination how his tan forearms flex with each roll, his tattoos popping off his skin, so dark, yet vivid. Bad timing to be turned on by arms, but it takes away the pain running rampant through me for a few seconds.
Giving me an unsure look, Aaron presses a kiss against my temple and walks to my dad and squats in front of him, his large body eclipsing my dad. His approach is sweet, caring. It makes me want to wrap my arms around him and give him a big hug. Aaron places one of his hands on my dad’s leg and says, “Hi, Mr. Santos.”
My dad doesn’t flinch.
Aaron continues. “It’s Aaron, in case you don’t recognize me. I’ve developed some muscles, I know, I was trying to bulk up in case I ever ran into you again. Didn’t want to get my butt handed to me like you said you would if I ever hurt Amelia.” Nothing. “I think I could take you now, though.” Aaron smiles, and I sadly shrug my shoulders when he peers at me. Chuckling to himself, Aaron motions around his head and says, “I love what you’ve done with your hair. No doubt the whole bullseye on top of your head is fun for birds when you’re outside.”
My dad went incredibly bald over the last few years. Aaron’s comment makes me snort laugh. I place my hand over my mouth, and Aaron smiles up at me. We both share a little chuckle over this horrible situation. Normally, if someone joked about my dad’s hair, I would defend him, but Aaron and my dad enjoyed a special relationship where they would tease each other all the time, so Aaron’s comment makes me feel somewhat normal during this otherwise melancholy moment.
Looking up at me, Aaron winks. My heart stutters in my chest as my body feels like it’s floating into bliss. Dad might not be doing well, but at least I have Aaron here, supporting me. I feel less . . . alone.
“If you want, I can get you some Velcro shoes to go with that haircut,” Aaron continues, making me smile even harder. “I’ll steal them from one of the neighbors on my street.”
“Don’t be a smart-ass.”
The room stills as Aaron and I both turn to my father, who is looking directly at Aaron, his brow pulled together, and a stern look on his face. Did he just . . .?
“I might be old, but I can still shove a stick up your ass to teach you a lesson.”
My hand goes to my mouth as Aaron stays in a squat position, almost dumbfounded.
My dad gives Aaron a once-over and then nods. “At least you have your shirt tucked in. Only took you a few years to figure it out.”
Still staring at him, Aaron doesn’t know what to say, but he doesn’t need to say anything, because my dad stands and yanks Aaron up by the arm. I didn’t know that was actually possible. The man is not small. I’ve lost hope that Dad would acknowledge Aaron, yet he not only spoke, but spoke with clarity and accuracy. It’s as though he’s lain dormant, and by some miracle, we’re getting to glimpse his beautiful heart again. How I’ve missed him. And Aaron’s face. He has tears in his eyes, and the sight of them is slaughtering my self-control. Aaron wears his heart on his sleeve, so right now, I’m seeing awe mixed with pain, mixed with joy.
Aaron is a few inches taller than my dad, but without warning, my dad pulls Aaron into a hug and says, “I’ve missed you, son.”
And just like that, the big-hearted, larger-than-life man who towers over everyone crumbles in my dad’s arms. His arms tighten around my father’s frail body and tears fall from his eyes as he buries his head into my father’s shoulder.