Page 73 of The Fun Part
“Bill Davis.” He shakes my hand firmly. He’s wearing a light blue uniform shirt. Cal mentioned he works at a warehousedistribution center nearby. His brows knit together in confusion. “Are you with Cal?”
I search my brain for a polite answer. “Actually, I came to meet Sutton in person, and I confess I was hoping she’d reconsider the promotion I’m offering.”
“Ah, but now she’s engaged.”
Cal comes over and gives his dad a half-armed hug. “How’re you holding up?”
“Fine.” He takes a seat in his recliner with a sigh of relief.
“I’ll get you a drink,” Sutton says.
“How about a beer?” Bill asks. He turns to us. “She only lets me have a beer on Fridays. I’m lucky she’s letting me have sugar today too.”
“Sounds like she takes good care of you,” I say.
“No one asked her to,” Bill grumbles.
Sutton returns with a beer for her dad. He takes it with a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
“How’re you really doing?” Cal asks his dad.
Bill glances at me, seeming embarrassed. “Is that why you’re here? I’m doing better this year. I had a nice talk with your mom.”
It’s sad, but I understand keeping the connection to his deceased wife, even if he makes up her side of the conversation. I’d still want to talk to someone I loved and lost.
Cal gives a slow nod. “And what did she say?”
Bill smiles, his face lighting up. “I brought her favorite flowers, tulips. She had tulips in her bridal bouquet, you know.”
“We know, Dad,” Cal says gently.
Bill continues, a faraway look in his eyes, “She’s waiting for me, but she wants me to be a grandparent for us first. I guess Sutton will get started on that now that she’s getting married.”
“I hope so,” Sutton says, exchanging a sharp look with Cal that seems to say,See? I can’t leave him.
“It’s okay to miss her, Dad,” Cal says. “We all do.” He gestures to a photo album on the coffee table. “Looking at your wedding album again?”
Bill tears up. “Seems so unfair that someone so dedicated to helping others was taken so soon.”
Cal fills me in. “Mom was an elementary school teacher and volunteered at a hospice too.”
“Never thought she’d be the one in hospice,” Bill says. “Ovarian cancer.”
“I’m so sorry. Can I see?” I gesture toward the photo album.
Bill nods.
I flip through the album of the happy couple as bride and groom. They look like they’re barely out of high school. Bill looks at his wife like he won the lottery. Cal’s mom is a petite brunette, her eyes shining with happiness. “Beautiful wedding pictures. You both look so young.”
Bill takes the album and gazes at his wife for a long moment before closing it. “We were. Got married a couple of years out of high school. I was playing college ball. She was working as a teacher assistant while going to night classes to become a teacher.”
“You could take night classes too,” Cal says to Sutton.
Sutton shakes her head. “I wasn’t good at school. I couldn’t wait to graduate.”
“You were grieving,” Bill says. “It’s no wonder your grades fell. Things would be different now.”
Sutton smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “I’m marrying my high school sweetheart. We both have good jobs, and we’ll have a nice life right here. Our kids can grow up with their grandfather like you said Mom wanted.”
