Page 96 of Becoming Us
Had to be ready for my guests.
Had to keep going.
The party had gotten a little out of hand. Someone had brought molly, there was way too much vodka, and by the time I’d managed to kick everyone out, I barely had time to shower and head out for the appointment. Nothing a little blow couldn’t smooth over. I popped an antihistamine along with it, just to keep my nose from running the whole time.
The clinic smelled like antiseptic and stale air, thick with the kind of silence that pressed down on your chest. I got there early and took a seat in the waiting area. A loud click sounded from one of the doors, and I looked up just in time to see them walking out of the doctor’s office.
What the fuck?
Frowning, I stood and walked toward them. “Hey, I thought the appointment was at nine?”
My dad smiled and shook his head. “We got here a bit early, and they saw us in. It was a quick one.” He was doing that thing—where his smile didn’t match his eyes.
My mother lingered behind, still speaking to the doctor in hushed tones. Her posture was rigid, her hand tight around her purse strap.
“So what did they say? When are you starting?”
He paused—not long, but enough for my chest to tense. “The tests were better than they thought.”
A jolt of hope shot through me. “Seriously?”
He nodded once. “We’re continuing treatment at home.”
“That’s good news, right? What did the scans show?”
“Sounds like it,” he said. “We’re heading back home tonight. Are you coming with us?”
“I still have a couple of papers to turn in, but I’ll be there if you need me.”
“No,” he replied. “Finish those. Come back after.”
“I’ll be there really soon.”
He gave me another smile—less tight this time.
Finally, some fucking good news for once. Could things finally be getting better?
We went out for lunch. It was quiet, a little awkward, but still nice. My mother didn’t say anything cutting, and my dad and I kept arguing over Phil versus Grohl.
At the restaurant door, just before we said goodbye, my dad pulled me into a hug.
I stood frozen for a second. Sure, we were closer now, but never actually hug-close. I wrapped my arms around his frail frame and hugged him back. He was just slightly taller than me, his head leaning next to mine, and the scent of his cologne—thatold-man cologne he’d worn his whole life—rose up and caught in my throat.
He tightened his grip and said, “Te amo, hijo. See you soon.”
It hit me hard. Right in the chest. I couldn’t remember if he’d ever said that to me before.
“Same, Dad,” I said, voice tight.
He let go, and my mother gave me a kiss on the cheek as their car pulled up.
I stood there and watched it drive off, dread spreading like poison through every cell in my body. My heart pounded in my temples. My fingertips had gone numb. It wasn’t even that cold out. I fought the urge to be sick and forced myself to breathe.
The tests came back okay. That means he’s getting better, right?Stop thinking the worst is going to happen, Noah. This is good. Take it in. Let yourself believe it.
After all, he wouldn’t lie to me.
Everything was fine.
