Page 60 of Say I'm Yours
My father’s face pales, and I know I struck a chord. This is my opening and as much as I hate doing it, I’m going to use it. “You can’t do that to her. You can’t, Dad. You have to try. At least give it a shot. She won’t be able to survive you dying. None of us will.”
The man who doesn’t cry wipes his eyes. “I don’t think it’s an option anymore.”
I grab his hand. “We’ll find out. Because if you don’t try, I’m not sure any of us will be able to live with ourselves.”
Wyatt filters in, and I look at my father again.
“Pop?” I say the word but beg with my voice.
“All right.”
“All right,” I pat his arm before looking at my brother. “I’ll let you visit with Wyatt.”
“Trent?” he calls out. “Don’t tell your mama anything yet.”
I nod with understanding. He doesn’t want to give my mother false hope. None of us do, but at least I could get him to even contemplate fighting it. However, I know my father and it’s going to take a lot more to convince him. Once he makes up his mind, it’s almost impossible to change it.
I head back to the waiting room where Presley sits with Zach. “Hey,” she says as she gets to her feet.
“Pres.” I give her a hug and she sniffs back her tears.
“How’s he doin’?”
I look over at Zach, who still doesn’t move. “Are you goin’ in?”
“Nah,” he says, looking at the ground. “I’m letting Wyatt and Mom in for now.”
“Are you kidding? You know he wants to see you.”
“Trent,” Grace whispers, putting her hand on my arm and drawing my attention. “I’m sure your brother will go.” I glance over at her, and she shakes her head slightly. Grace’s eyes are soft and she bites her bottom lip. The way she looks at me, so open and loving, makes me pause. “Why don’t we sit?” Her small hand wraps around mine, and I nod.
Zach can be pissed, but not going to see Dad is unacceptable. He needs to man up and be there. I don’t have a problem reminding him if he needs it. This isn’t about him. This is about Dad.
Time passes with each of us taking turns going in an out. Zach, however, remains in the waiting room. It’s taking everything inside me not to punch him.
He’s acting like a selfish prick.
After another hour passes, I finally reach the tipping point. “Go in there!” I get to my feet and he glares at me.
“Don’t tell me how to act,” he fires back as he gets toe to toe with me. “I’m doin’ what I can. You don’t get to dictate how we all handle things. You’re not exactly the authority on doin’ what’s right.”
“Trent.” Wyatt steps between us and puts his hand on my chest. “Not like this. Not today.”
“He’s sitting out here! Dad is dyin’, and he’s fucking sitting there.”
“Dad understands,” Wyatt says, trying to get me to relax. “Don’t do this.”
I stare at my brothers as I push the air out of my nose. I’m fuming. We’re stronger in numbers and Zach needs to go in. “He’s the one he’d listen to the most.” I choke on the words. “He’ll listen to him.” I point at Zach, and his face pales. “If he tells him to fight—” My throat starts to close and my chest aches. “He’ll listen to him.”
“You don’t know that,” Wyatt tries again to reason with me.
I do know it. Zach has always been the one Dad hears. When we were younger, if Zach told Dad it was his fault, none of us got in trouble. I don’t think he had a favorite, but if he did, Zach would be it. Sure, he’s listening to Wyatt and me, but he’s waiting for him.
Mama walks through the doors and looks at the three of us ready to fight. “Not happenin’ here, boys. You three are goin’ to get along and that’s that.”
I see the fear in her eyes. She’s right. We don’t need to be doing this here. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Sorry, Mama,” Zach says and moves back to Presley.
