Monroe
“You want some more bacon?”
I hold the plate out toward my father, but he lifts the fingers on his good hand and shakes his head. “N-no. Th-thank you.”
He never ceases to amaze me. After all this time, he’s still making progress. The doctors told us his speech might never be normal, and it’s not, but it’s pretty darn close. His words come slowly, but they’re getting clearer.
“More coffee?”
He shakes his head.
Dad’s eyes track me while I move about the kitchen, washing the breakfast dishes and putting them away. Times like this, I wonder what he’s thinking about. Does he see my mom in me? Does it hurt him to think of her the way it hurts me? Or maybe he’s thinking I’m a shit caregiver and he’d be better off at a home.
Draping the towel over the sink, I look at my dad. “Can I ask you a question?”
He nods toward the seat. I pull it out and sit down.
“What are you thinking about right now?” I ask. “Sometimes you watch me, and I wonder what you’re thinking.”
His brow dips low, and after a few seconds he looks over my shoulder with a blank stare. Eventually he speaks. “Th-that I’m so p-proud of you.”
I wrap my hand around his good one so he can feel my touch. “I’m proud of you too.”
Dad squeezes his eyes shut, and I scoot my chair closer to his wheelchair. “You okay?”
He tries to shake his head. It’s more of a jerky movement, but one I understand. “I w-wish I would’ve d-died.”
“What?” I gasp. “No. No, Dad, don’t think that.”
His jaw tightens. “Th-this isn’t the life I w-wanted for you.”
“Dad—”
He squeezes my hand tight. “I want you t-to close the sh-shelter and go b-back to school.”
“No.” I shake my head. “Absolutely not.”
“That was my d-dream, not yours, M-Monroe.”
“Dreams change, Dad. That’s the thing about life—it’s constantly shifting and rearranging itself, and with that comes new perspectives. Animal Haven might not have been my dream in the beginning, but I love what I do, and I love those animals. I’m not keeping it for you; I’m keeping it for me.”
Dad’s eyes well up with tears. “What about s-school?”
I don’t bother telling him I’ll likely never go back—or that even if I wanted to, they wouldn’t accept me. My advisor made it clear that getting accepted into the program to begin with was difficult, and once a seat is given up, it’s virtually impossible to reclaim. I could always apply to a different program, but there are only so many in the United States, and I don’t want to move away from Heaven. Not anymore.
“You let me worry about that, okay?”
He doesn’t look happy with my request, but he squeezes my hand to tell me he’ll oblige. For now.
I kiss his cheek. “Want to go in the living room and watch a movie? Or we can take a walk. It’s beautiful outside.”
With sad eyes, my dad shakes his head. “I would l-like to lay back d-d-down for a while.”
Tilting my head, I frown. “You just got up an hour ago.”
“Haven’t b-been sleeping well.”
My mind goes on red alert. “You aren’t getting a bedsore, are you? Maybe you should let me check.”
“No. N-no bedsore. I hear you c-crying.”
“Oh, Dad.” Shaking my head, I look down.
“Wanted to c-come check on you, b-but I couldn’t g-get up. Hate that, M-Mo.”
Damn. Most days I’m able to stay strong, to shoulder the stress of my life, but this last week—since that night after leaving Dirty Dicks—has been increasingly tough. Everything has piled up, and all I’ve been able to think about is the look on Rhett’s face and the lies I told to cause it. I’ve been over and over how I could have let Nikki manipulate me like that, and I don’t have an answer. I think only now do I realize the depth of my despair in those days after my dad’s stroke. Anyway, I certainly didn’t mean for anyone to hear me breaking down, particularly my father.
Six years of pain and frustration, six years of thinking it had to be for the best. Six years of running my ass off day after day—and seven days since I’ve seen Rhett. Seven days since he refused to let me tell the rest of my story.
“I’m okay, Dad. I’ve just had a bad week.”
“When those d-dogs were here, you were s-so happy. I haven’t seen y-you that happy in y-years.”
It wasn’t the dogs that made me happy; it was their owner. There was a warmth in my heart, knowing Rhett was back home.
Coop showed up the morning after my argument with Rhett. He didn’t ask what happened and he didn’t make small talk, he simply took Duke and Diesel and left a bigger hole in my life than I’d woken up with.
“I’ll get back there, Dad. I promise.”
“W-want you to be h-happy.”
“I know you do.”
He pats my hand and nods. “I’m here f-for you.”
“I know you are.” I kiss his cheek again, thankful he’s still with me. “Want me to help you back to bed?”
“P-please.”
Getting my father into bed isn’t as hard as it could be. He’s lost a lot of weight over the years, which makes it easier on my back. I keep a gait belt wrapped around his waist, so all I have to do is push his chair next to the bed and make the transfer. He’s got enough strength on one side to help steady himself as I turn him toward the bed.
Once I get him situated, I put the bell on his nightstand. “Ring whenever you’re ready to get up.”
His eyes are closed in a matter of seconds, and I shut off the light on my way out. I close the door and lean my back up against it. With my head in my hands I slide to the ground. I’ve just pulled my knees to my chest when there’s a knock on the front door.
I groan, dropping my head back against the bedroom door.
The front door opens, and Claire pops her head in. “It’s just me.” She spots me on the floor, shuts the front door, and drops her purse on the couch. “What are you doing on the floor?” she asks, sliding down the wall across from me.
“Thinking.”
“That’ll get in you in trouble.”
“The way I see it, a little thinking might’ve kept me out of it.”
“Ahh.” She nods. “We’re talking about Rhett. You should go talk to him.” She says this as though it’s the simplest thing in the world.
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug. “Because everything is ruined. I broke his heart, Claire. He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say, let alone see me.”
“You didn’t break him, Mo.”
I give her a look, and she smiles.
“What? You didn’t. Yes, you may have done some damage, but that man is anything but broken. He’s had an amazing career, made tons of money. He’s a freaking model, for God’s sake, and he could have any woman he set his sights on.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
“Lucky for you, he doesn’t want just any woman; he wants you.”
“Ha! He wants me to go away maybe, but that’s the only thing he wants from me.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“What are you saying, Claire?”
She purses her lips. “You made a mistake, and now it’s time you make it better. It’s not his job to come after you so you can stop staring at your phone and waiting for him to call. If you want to be heard, make him hear you.”
Her words spur something inside of me. Maybe she’s right. Whatever else was happening around me, I made this mess, so I’m the only one to clean it up. I’ve been giving Rhett time, waiting for him to come to me when he’s ready, but why should he after what I did?
“Do you have any plans today?” I ask.
“It’s Sunday. Do I ever have plans on Sunday?” Claire smiles and pushes up from the floor. She pulls me up alongside her and says, “I don’t even know why you’re still here. Go.”
“Thank you.” I wrap her in a quick hug and grab my purse from the kitchen. “I’ll try to be back soon.”
“Take your time. I’ve got nowhere to be.”
“You sure you can handle Dad if he wakes up?”
“Go! Stop worrying about everyone else for a change.”