Page 49 of Ebbing Tides
She sighed, but didn’t disagree. “We all have. But anyway, when was your dad diagnosed?”
“Ten months ago,” I answered in a grumble. “He’s been in hospice for nine months.”
She looked up at me, surprise in her eyes. “Wow. That’s a pretty long time to be a hospice patient.”
“No kidding,” I said, closing my eyes and sighing.
“You know, I want to go out on a limb and say you don’t seem very happy about that.”
My smile was melancholy and so, so, so shameful. “Things with my dad are … well, I told you, they’re not good. Between me and him, I mean. Never have been. He saddled me with the job of caring for him when he was diagnosed—after the cancer already metastasized and there was nothing the doctors could do for him. He didn’t want to burden my sisters. I was told he’d be around for a few weeks, maybe a couple of months, but I never imagined nine whole freakin’ months would go by.”
By the time I finished, embarrassment had set fire to my cheeks, and the collar of my shirt felt too tight. I took a sip of water, hoping to cool the heat of my guilt, but nothing could touch that soul-deep agony.
Melanie let the information seep in, and then she nodded. “When you say things aren’t good, you mean you never patched up your relationship with him?”
“Something like that.”
“Hmm,” she replied. “Well, I don’t know what exactly your relationship with him is like, but whatever you have to say to him, I suggest you say it. For all you know, that’s exactly the reason why he’s held on for so long.”
I didn’t reply, instead diverting my attention to my water glass as I lifted it and took a sip for something better to do. While, in my mind, I began to wonder if maybe she was right.
***
I helped clear the table and offered to do the dishes, but was quickly turned down. Charlie, ever punctual, casually hinted that it was time to close the gate and the daytime security guard—really wished I could remember that guy’s name—would be leaving. He gave me an apologetic look, though I knew there was undoubtedly a part of him that wanted me and my dog out of his house. I accepted there was truth in what he was saying and agreed, collected my jacket and Lido, and headed for the door after saying a quick goodbye to the boys.
Melanie followed me and grabbed the leather jacket from the coat hooks beside the door.
“I’ll walk you to your truck,” she told me with a smile and a quick glance toward Stormy.
“I’ll keep an eye on them,” she said, and although I might be mistaken, I would swear she’d winked.
The winter chill was welcomed the moment we opened the door. I hadn’t been aware of how stifling the warmth inside was, but once the cold, fresh air wrapped around me, I opened my lungs and happily pulled it in. Lido headed toward the truck with a simple command, following Charlie down the walkway with a wagging tail, while I trailed behind with Melanie by my side. She didn’t say anything right away, and I worried I might’ve offended her in some way, or perhaps she’d decided she made a terrible decision to play along with this harebrained idea to live as if she wasn’t leaving. But once Charlie reached his truck, parked just ahead of mine at the bottom of the hill, and got inside, she found her voice.
“The kids are usually asleep by nine,” she said quietly as Charlie started his engine and drove slowly down the road toward the gate.
“Okay …” I pulled my keys from my pocket as we reached my truck.
I opened the door for Lido, and he immediately climbed in to take his seat on the passenger side.
Melanie bit at her bottom lip before bringing her eyes to mine. “I thought maybe I’d come by if you wanted the company.”
My face remained stoic as I shut Lido’s door. But then I took a step toward her, gathered her face between my palms, and tipped her lips upward. I dropped a kiss against them, then another, relishing in the way her pulse fluttered beneath my fingertips, and said, “Don’t bother knocking. The door will be open.”
CHAPTER TEN
My eyes were pinned on the computer screen. My hearing aids were charged and now tuned in to any sound the cameras picked up. My fingers drummed a staccato beat on the desk, and my legs bounced an out-of-tune rhythm with every erratic beat of my heart. My nerves hummed with Christmas Eve-level anticipation as my stomach twisted and turned into thousands of microscopic knots that even a jeweler would find impossible to untangle.
Time passed differently in moments like these. A slow, crawling agony that felt never-ending.
It was nearly midnight.
Where was she?
I could’ve shot her a text, but I hesitated to bother her. I understood what it was like to have kids. Routine was only routine until one kid had a nightmare, or one needed fourteen drinks of water, or one couldn’t fathom the thought of sleeping before a minimum of six stories were read. Yet still, my eyes burned with the need to check the clock every ten seconds, and my fingers itched to dial her number, and with stubborn self-control, I ignored every single one.
At ten minutes to twelve, Lido lifted his head abruptly, his ears pricked and tail thumping. I glanced at the camera feed, certain Melanie’s car was there and I’d just missed her driving through the cemetery, but it wasn’t.
Instead, my phone rang, and Sid’s name and picture lit up the screen.
