Page 3 of Don't Forget Me
“That’s because you don’t taste as good as me.” Owen proudly lifted a foot with tiny ant bites stretching across it.
She led them to where her dad sat on the front porch with one of the neighbors.
“I tried, Lizzy. Those kids of yours are stubborn.”
Elizabeth laughed and placed a kiss on her dad’s cheek. “Thanks for getting them from school.” She sent the other man a smile. “Hey, Jimmy.”
“Lizzy girl, how are you?” His weathered face spread into a kind grin.
How was she? Tired. Sad. Something was wrong with her, and she didn’t know what. She’d made it a habit not to say anything that worried her dad, though. “I’m good.”
“We saved you some dinner.” Her dad gripped her arm. “You look tired.”
“I’m okay, really. I’m off tomorrow, so I’ll rest then.” It had been a condition of her getting a job. She could only work part time at first. It didn’t matter that she was slinging coffees. After being sick for so long, she’d just wanted something that got her out of the house.
Wrapping an arm around each kid, she pushed them toward the house. “Come on, stink bugs. Bath time, and then I’ll read you a story.”
“The one about the doctor?” Evelyn’s face brightened.
“Sure. The one about the doctor.” Her kids had grown up hanging out at the hospital. The doctors and nurses let them trail them around. The other patients loved it—well, most of them did. They’d become part of the family.
Now that they were in school, they missed it. Elizabeth had never wanted that to be their life.
Once she got the kids to sleep, she found the plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes her dad left her in the refrigerator. She heated it in the microwave, staring at the time ticking by.
Commotion came from the back screened-in porch, and she carried the plate that way, sliding the glass door open with her foot.
Her dad sat at the porch table with four of his friends, men Elizabeth had known since she was a kid.
“Poker night?”
“Is there any other night?” Reggie sent her a wink. He didn’t ask her how she was. As a cancer survivor himself, he knew how old the questions got.
Taking a seat on the small couch across from the table, she watched the five men laugh and joke like they’d known each other their entire lives. She supposed some of them had. Others came and went.
It wasn’t the first time she envied her dad. He’d met the love of his life—her mom—when they were little more than teenagers. His friends stood by him when his wife got cancer and he was left with a fifteen-year-old girl to raise on his own.
They hadn’t abandoned him when being his friend became inconvenient.
Unlike most of the friends she’d had over the years.
“Whatcha eating, darling?” Reggie eyed her plate with envy.
“Nothing I’m giving to you, old man.” She covered it with her hands.
Her dad released a booming laugh. “She’s right, Reg. You’re old.”
“You’re one to talk. At least my hair hasn’t gone white.”
“It’s dyed.” Jimmy coughed.
Reggie threw a plastic poker chip at him. “You’d know.”
Elizabeth couldn’t help smiling as she watched them banter. These were the men who’d rallied around them when her mom died, and again when Elizabeth got cancer the first time. They sat in the waiting room both the day she gave birth and the day she learned the cancer was back.
Jimmy—as a barber—shaved her hair when the time came.
Reggie had given her the book that got him through cancer—daily sayings and prayers designed to give her the hope she needed to keep going.
