He greeted the hospice worker, a pleasant woman named Isabelle, who knew her way to Sara’s room.
“Peyton made your lunch last night,” Drew told Chloe, who was now dressed in leggings and a zipped-up hoodie, her hair brushed out smooth.
“Yeah, she told me. You know, I’m old enough to look after myself. You didn’t need to come over.”
“Dammit, you mean I got up early for nothing?” Oops with the swear but Chloe just smiled. “I don’t mind. Gives me a chance to see you again. I’ll be here when you get home from school.”
“What do you do all day?” she asked, spooning up oatmeal.
“Not much,” he admitted. “Go online and see what’s happening in the hockey world. Go to the gym and work out. Tomorrow I’m golfing with some guys. Unless it rains.”
She nodded. “What time does Auntie P get home?”
“Around nine.”
“So I’ll see her tonight.”
“Your bedtime is nine.”
“I can read until nine-thirty, though,” she said. “I think I should be able to stay up until ten. All my friends do.”
Drew gulped some coffee. He had no clue if that was true. But somehow he had a feeling that pushing bedtime as late as possible was something all kids tried. Hell, he was pretty sure he’d done that himself. “Well, if she gets here before you’re asleep, yeah, I’m sure she’ll come say hi.”
Chloe dawdled over her oatmeal and sipped her orange juice. Drew checked his watch. The last thing he wanted to happen while he was looking after her was missing the school bus and being late for school. “Better get moving.”
“I have lots of time.” She finished her cereal with the speed of a turtle in molasses and drained the last of the juice. She pushed the bowl and glass across the counter toward him and he grinned as he picked them up to put them in the dishwasher.
Chloe jumped off the stool. “I have to go say bye to Mom.”
Drew wiped the counter while he waited for Chloe to return. When she emerged from her mom’s room wearing a solemn expression, his chest hurt. He handed over her lunch. Her backpack sat on the living room floor, still open. She stuffed her lunch in along with a bunch of papers. “Okay, ready.”
He’d been told to walk with her to the corner where the bus picked her up, and they left the house in the fresh morning air, cooler now as autumn deepened. It was the last day of September. The low sun beamed soft light through tree branches and between houses.
Chloe chatted about her friends and her day as if they’d always known each other. Then the school bus appeared at the end of the street and she had to sprint to catch it. Drew shook his head, remembering her dallying at home. She waved as she climbed on the bus and joined her friends, and Drew watched the big yellow vehicle drive away.
It was such a dad moment; he didn’t move right away, standing on the sidewalk, his chest full of heat. Then he turned and walked back to the house.
Inside he checked in with Sara, now sitting up in bed. “Anything I can help out with here today?” he asked her.
She tipped her head to one side. In the time since they’d met again, she’d grown even frailer. Maybe he noticed it more than others because he didn’t see her every day. “Drew? What are you doing here?”
He paused. He’d been here yesterday, had talked to her while Peyton explained the plan for her to fly back to New York. Sara didn’t remember?
His heart bumped in his chest.
“I came to help get Chloe off to school while Peyton’s away. Remember?” he asked gently.
Her forehead creased. “Oh. Oh, right.” Confusion clouded her eyes.
Damn. This wasn’t good.
“She’s on a lot of pain medication,” Isabelle said quietly to him. “It can sometimes cause confusion.”
“Is it Monday?” Sara asked.
“That’s right.” He smiled at her.Shit, shit, shit.
“Will you eat some of this yogurt?” Isabelle asked, approaching the bed with a container and a spoon. “It’s strawberry, your favorite.”