Page 81 of Coming Home

This was one of the best parts of Dad. He was like a many-layered, jam-filled cake. On the outside, he appeared the stoic formal doctor, but with his family, he’d let out a hidden goofiness. Most people thought Nat was like her mom, but in moments like this when Dad belted his off-key version of T-Swift music from the passenger seat of her Jeep, she knew she was a lot like him.

After seeing their patients, they stopped at a small pizzeria on Main Street in Warsaw. A basket of wings and a large antipasto salad sat in the center of the red table for them to share.

Smiling, Nat scooped salad onto a small yellow plate. “It’s been ages since we’ve had a solo lunch date.”

“Too long.” He stirred his iced tea with his straw. “Maybe we can make this a thing with the schedule. We can rotate, but maybe we should have one day when we do together. I enjoyed rounding with you today.”

“That would be nice.” Nat speared the lettuce with her fork. “Thanks for agreeing to let me come and to the schedule.”

“Agreeing?” he chuckled. “You make it sound like an imposition. I’ve been hoping you’d ask to come.”

Placing her fork down, she leaned against the black leather seat. “Waiting? How come you just didn’t ask me to come?”

“I didn’t want to push you. I wanted to give you time to settle in.”

“Why?” The questions buzzed through her.Was it because you worried that I wasn’t ready? Was it because you weren’t ready?Each remained inside her as he went on.

A heavy sigh fell out of him. “I had pushed Clayton to be pre-med at Cornell. I was so excited about sharing this with one of my children.” He motioned around them as if they sat in the clinic, not a pizzeria. “When he’d chose not to go to medicalschool, I had felt rejected, and it strained our relationship for a long time.”

Nat nodded. For years, there had been tension between father and son. Clayton thought he’d disappointed their dad when he’d chose to become a veterinarian instead of a family medicine doctor like their father. Dad thought Clayton’s choice was a rejection of a relationship with him. It wasn’t until last year that the two had finally talked. Sharing their truths had formed a stronger bond between them.

“I was so happy when you said you wanted to become a doctor, but I didn’t want to push you. I didn’t want you to think my pride…my love for you was contingent on you becoming a doctor.”

“I worried it was because I wasn’t Evan.” The confession was so quiet that she feared he’d not heard and feared even more that he had.

“What?” Regret shimmered in his blue eyes.

“I’m sorry…” she started and then stopped herself. How often had she apologized for mentioning Evan and then changed the subject? How often had she said things were fine when they weren’t? How frequently had she wished to be brave?

Youarebrave. You just need to let yourself be.Noah’s words whispered in her ear as if encouraging her to keep going.

“No, I am not sorry.” She shook her head. “When Evan was alive, the two of you would talk for hours about his medical school courses and plans for the clinic after he came back. Mom and you would talk about early retirement, but with me, you did none of that. When Noah’s dad mentioned the idea of retirement, Mom and you squashed it quickly. Is it because you don’t think I can do it? Is it because I’m not Evan?”

The words choked her as they came out, but she kept her gaze fixed on him. Gray clouds rolled in his eyes, and his smile wobbled.

“No.” His voice came out low and hoarse. “I lost one child and felt like I was losing another. I was not going to risk you.” Tears welled in his eyes.

“Dad…I’m sorry…I?—”

He reached for her hand, grasping it. “Do not apologize. I’m the one who’s sorry. I never want you to ever feel like that. You are not Evan, but Evan was not you. I was blessed with three amazing children. Each of you is so different from one another, yet all three are equal in the gifts you’ve given your mother and me. Clayton is so stoic, thoughtful, and protective. Evan was charming and effervescent. You are all those things. You are love in motion. Everything you do is anchored by love and you spread that love to everyone around you.”

Nat swiped at the tears pricking her eyes. “I didn’t know you were worried about losing me.”

He inhaled deeply and then pinned his gaze on her. “I never said anything. Just like with Clayton.”

“Why don’t we talk about things?”

“Your mom and I came from families that didn’t talk about …emotional…things. We kept everything inside. It’s not an excuse…it’s just how we were raised, and I think we raised you kids the same way. Clayton and I went fifteen years without really talking about important things, and now you and I have gone ten years. I don’t want unsaid things to keep coming between me and my children. I don’t want to be the reason I lose one of my children. It hurt so much to lose Evan. If I lost Clayton or you…” His voice quaked, and his words trailed off.

“We do need to talk more…and we need to talk about Evan,” she said.

His confession fueled her bravery. It was time to take off the Band-Aids and let the wounds heal in honesty’s fresh air.

“At my graduation, you’d asked us not to mention Evan so we wouldn’t upset Mom. We’ve obeyed for the last ten years, butit hasn’t helped. Mom may be out of bed. She may be smiling. She may be laughing. She may be doing all the things that make someone seem fine, but she’s not fine. None of us are. Until we truly grieve Evan, we never will be.” Steely resolve punctuated her words.

“I know,” he whispered, his eyes downcast to his lap.

“Hey.” She tugged at his hand, pulling his gaze back to her. “How about we start with us? Maybe we can talk about Evan during our father/daughter lunch dates…really talk. We can figure out together how best to help Mom…to help ourselves.”

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