She scooted her chair closer. “I mean who’s going to make sure you’re okay?”
He didn’t answer right away but tried to sit up a little in the bed. “I’ll be fine,” he said. “And if I need something, I can call Pastor Harris. He lives only a couple of blocks away.”
She tried to imagine Pastor Harris, with his burned hands and his cane, trying to aid her father if he needed help getting into the car. He seemed to know what she was thinking.
“Like I said, I’ll be okay,” he murmured. “I’ve known this was coming, and if worse comes to worst, there’s a hospice associated with the hospital.”
She didn’t want to imagine him there, either. “A hospice?”
“It’s not as bad as you think. I’ve been there.”
“When?”
“A few weeks ago. And I went back again last week. They’ll be ready for me whenever I need it.”
Yet another thing she didn’t know, yet another secret revealed. Yet another truth portending the inevitable. Her stomach roiled, nausea settling in.
“But you’d rather be at home, wouldn’t you?”
“I will be,” he said.
“Until you can’t?”
His expression was almost too sad to bear. “Until I can’t.”
She left her father’s room, heading for the cafeteria. It was time, her dad said, for him to talk to Jonah.
She was dazed as she walked the corridors. It was almost midnight now, but the emergency room was as busy as always. She passed by rooms, most of them with open doors, and saw crying children accompanied by anxious parents and a woman who couldn’t stop vomiting. Nurses bustled around the main station, reaching for charts or loading up carts. It amazed her that so many people could be sick this late at night, yet she knew that most of them would be gone by tomorrow. Her dad, on the other hand, was scheduled to be moved to a room upstairs; they were only waiting for the paperwork to go through.
She weaved through the crowded waiting room toward a door that led to the main area of the hospital lobby and the cafeteria. As the door swung shut behind her, the noise level dropped. She could hear the sound of her footfalls, could almost hear herself thinking, and as she moved, she felt waves of exhaustion and nausea coursing through her. This was the place where sick people came; this was the place where people came to die, and she knew her father would see this place again.
She could barely swallow as she reached the cafeteria. She rubbed her gritty, swollen eyes, promising herself that she was going to keep it together. The grill was closed at this hour, but there were vending machines on the far wall, and a couple of nurses sat in the corner, sipping coffee. Jonah and Will were seated at a table near the door, and Will looked up as she approached. On the table stood a half-empty bottle of water and milk and a packet of cookies for Jonah. Jonah turned around to look at her.
“That took you long enough,” he said. “What’s going on? Is Dad okay?”
“He’s doing better,” she said. “But he wants to talk to you.”
“About what?” He put down his cookie. “I’m not in trouble, am I?”
“No, nothing like that. He wants to tell you what’s going on.”
“Why can’t you tell me?” He sounded anxious, and Ronnie felt her heart contract with dread.
“Because he wants to talk to you alone. Like he did with me. I’ll walk you over there and wait outside the door, okay?”
He got up from his seat and headed for the door, leaving her to trail after him. “Cool,” he said as he passed her, and Ronnie suddenly wanted to run away. But she had to stay with Jonah.
Will continued to sit, unmoving, his eyes fixed on Ronnie.
“Give me a second, okay?” she called to Jonah.
Will stood up from the table, looking frightened for her. He knows, she suddenly thought. Somehow he already knows.
“Can you wait for us?” Ronnie began. “I know you probably—”
“Of course I’ll wait,” he said quietly. “I’ll be right here for as long as you need me.”
Relief rushed through her, and she gave him a grateful look, then turned and followed Jonah. They pushed open the door and headed into the otherwise empty corridor, toward the hustle and bustle of the emergency room.
No one close to her had ever died. Though her dad’s parents had died and she remembered attending the funerals, she’d never known them well. They weren’t the kind of grandparents that visited. They were strangers in a way, and even after they’d passed away, she’d never remembered missing them.
About the closest she’d ever come to something like this was when Amy Childress, her seventh-grade history teacher, was killed in a traffic accident the summer after Ronnie had finished taking her class. She’d heard about it first from Kayla, and she remembered feeling less sad than shocked, if only because Amy was so young. Ms. Childress was still in her twenties and had been teaching only a few years, and Ronnie remembered how surreal it had felt. She was always so friendly; she was one of the few teachers Ronnie ever had that used to laugh aloud in class. When she returned to school in the fall, she wasn’t sure what to expect. How did people react to something like this? What did the other teachers think? She walked the halls that day, searching for signs of anything different, but aside from a small plaque that had been mounted on the wall near the principal’s office, she saw nothing out of the ordinary. Teachers taught their classes and socialized in the lounge; she saw Mrs. Taylor and Mr. Burns—two of the teachers Ms. Childress often ate lunch with—smiling and laughing as they walked down the halls.
She remembered that it bothered her. Granted, the accident had occurred over the summer and people had already mourned, but when she went by Ms. Childress’s classroom and saw that it was now being used to teach science, she realized she was angry, not only that Ms. Childress had died, but that her memory had been erased so entirely in such a short period of time.
She didn’t want that to happen to her dad. She didn’t want him forgotten in a matter of weeks—he was good man, a good father, and he deserved more than that.
Thinking along those lines made her realize something else, too: She’d never really known her dad when he was healthy. She’d last spent time with him when she was a freshman in high school. Now, she was technically an adult, old enough to vote or join the army, and over the summer, he’d harbored his secret. Who would he have been had he not known what was happening to him? Who was he, really?
She had nothing to judge him by, other than memories of him as her piano teacher. She knew little about him. She didn’t know the novelists he liked to read, she didn’t know his favorite animal, and if pressed, she couldn’t begin to guess his favorite color. They weren’t important things and she knew they didn’t really matter, but somehow she was troubled by the thought that she would probably never learn the answers.
Behind the door, she heard the sounds of Jonah crying, and she knew he’d learned the truth. She heard her brother’s frantic denials and the answering murmurs of her father. She leaned against the wall, aching for Jonah and for herself.
She wanted to do something to make this nightmare go away. She wanted to turn back the clock to the moment the turtles had hatched, when all was right with the world. She wanted to stand beside the boy she loved, her happy family by her side. She suddenly remembered Megan’s radiant expression when she’d danced with her father at the wedding, and she felt a piercing ache at the knowledge that she and her dad would never share that special moment.
She closed her eyes and put her hands over her ears, trying to block out the sound of Jonah’s cries. He sounded so helpless, so young… so scared. There was no way he could understand what was happening, there was no way he would ever really recover. She knew he’d never forget this awful day.
“Can I get you a glass of water?”
She barely heard the words but somehow knew they were directed at her. Looking up through her tears, she saw Pastor Harris standing before her.
She couldn’t answer, but she was somehow able to shake her head. His expression was kind, but she could see his anguish in the stoop of his shoulders, in the way he gripped the cane.
“I’m very sorry,” he said. His voice sounded weary. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. Your dad is a special man.”
She nodded. “How did you know he was here? Did he call you?”
“No,” he said. “One of the nurses called me. I’m here two or three times a week, and when you brought him in, they thought I’d want to know. They know I think of him as my son.”
“Are you going to talk to him?”
Pastor Harris eyed the closed door. “Only if he wants to see me.” By his pained expression, she knew he could hear Jonah’s cries. “And after talking to the two of you, I’m sure he will. You have no idea how much he was dreading this moment.”
“You’ve talked about it?”
“Many times. He loves the two of you more than life itself, and he didn’t want to hurt you. He knew the time would come, but I’m sure he didn’t want you to find out like this.”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s not like it changes anything.”
“But everything has changed,” Pastor Harris countered.
“Because I know?”
“No,” he said. “Because of the time you’ve spent together. Before the two of you came down, he was so nervous. Not about being sick, but because of how much he wanted to spend time with you, and wanted everything to go well. I don’t think you realize how much he missed you, or how much he really loves you and Jonah. He was literally counting the days. When I’d see him, he’d say, ‘Nineteen days,’ or, ‘Twelve days.’ And the day before you arrived? He spent hours cleaning the house and putting new sheets on the beds. I know the place isn’t much, but if you’d seen it before, you’d understand. He wanted the two of you to have a summer to remember, and he wanted to be part of that. Like all parents, he wants you to be happy. He wants to know that you’re going to be okay. He wants to know that you’ll make good decisions. That’s what he needed this summer, and that’s what you’ve given him.”
She squinted up at him. “But I haven’t always made good decisions.”
Pastor Harris smiled. “All that shows is that you’re human. He never expected perfection. But I do know how proud he is of the young woman you’ve become. He told me that just a few days ago, and you should have seen him when he spoke about you. He was so… proud, so happy, and that night, when I prayed, I thanked God for that. Because your dad really struggled when he moved back here. I wasn’t sure he’d ever be happy again. And yet, despite everything that’s happened, I now know that he is.”
She felt the lump in her throat. “What am I supposed to do?”
“I’m not sure there’s anything you can do.”
“But I’m scared,” she said. “And my dad…”
“I know,” he said. “And though both of you have made him very happy, I know your dad is scared, too.”
That night, Ronnie stood on the back porch. The waves were as steady and rhythmic as always, and the stars were flickering with pinprick intensity, but everything else about the world around her seemed different. Will was talking with Jonah in the bedroom, so there were three people here as usual, but somehow the house felt emptier.
Pastor Harris was still with her dad. Pastor Harris told her he planned to stay through the night, so she could bring Jonah back home, but she felt guilty nonetheless for leaving. Tomorrow, her dad had tests scheduled during the day and another meeting with his doctor. In between those things, he would be tired and she knew he’d need his rest. But she wanted to be there, she wanted to be at his side, even if he was asleep, because she knew the time would come when she couldn’t.
Behind her, she heard the back door squeak open; Will closed it gently behind him. As he approached her, she continued to gaze out over the sandy beach.
“Jonah’s finally asleep,” he said. “But I don’t think he really understands what’s happening. He told me he’s pretty sure the doctor will make his dad all better, and he kept asking when his dad could come home.”
She remembered his cries from the hospital room, and all she could do was nod. Will slipped his arms around her.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“How do you think I’m doing? I just found out my father is dying and that he probably won’t live to see Christmas.”
“I know,” he said gently. “And I’m sorry. I know how hard this is for you.” She could feel his hands on her waist. “I’ll stay tonight so if anything happens and you have to go, someone can be with Jonah. I can stay around here as long as you need me to. I know I’m supposed to be leaving in a couple of days, but I can call the dean’s office and explain what’s happening. Classes don’t start until next week.”
“You can’t fix this,” she said. Though she could hear the sharpness in her tone, she couldn’t help it. “Don’t you get that?”
“I’m not trying to fix it—”
“Yes, you are! But you can’t!” Her heart suddenly felt as if it were going to explode. “And you can’t understand what I’m going through, either!”
“I’ve lost someone, too,” he reminded her.
“It’s not the same!” She squeezed the bridge of her nose, trying to stifle her tears. “I was so mean to him. I quit the piano! I blamed him for everything, and I didn’t say more than a few words to him for three years! Three years! And I can’t get those years back. But maybe if I hadn’t been so angry, he might not have gotten sick. Maybe I caused that extra… stress that did all this. Maybe it was me!” She pulled away from Will.