Page 13 of Choosing My Happiness
“I thought your parents weren’t fans of other races,” I started. Janie raised her eyebrows.
“But Bull’s not white, is he?” I continued.
“Mexican.” She nodded, waiting to see where I took this.
“How did you get them to agree to the wedding?” I asked.
She sighed and put her cup down. “I didn’t. That was my first rebellion. Bull and I went on a road trip and came back married. They refused to talk to me for months, and then slowly things got better when they allowed themselves to call him Bill.” Janie’s lips stretched into a sneer. “They’re out of our lives now. Eric and Trey were the last rebellion. They refused to have anything to do with us as soon as we took them.” She shook her head. “But the good side of that is I can do what I want without judgement, and I can call Bull by his real name, Perez.”
I smiled. Backbone looked good on her.
8
Chapter 8: Daisy
Bull was in his element when he arrived home. He was covered in children, including little Dylan. They all begged to sit on their dad’s shoulders and each got their turn and their fair share of attention. I don’t think I’d ever seen him smile in the old days, but these days his smile seemed to not leave his face, except when he realised Dylan was here, and that I knew who his father was. Even then, the frown was fleeting once he realised I was okay, and a grin was soon parting his beard as he played with the kids.
* * *
In the morning, I dressed as casually as I could and drove to the hospital, where Janie said Dad was. It was disconcerting walkingin. I looked down the hall to where maternity was located and felt the hairs on the back of my neck rise. That was where my life changed. I understood the decisions made that day now, in a more clinical way. But I still felt like I needed to avoid that area. I looked away and walked to the general ward and asked for my father by name.
Mom was sitting with Dad, going through some paperwork, when the nurse let me into the room. He was hooked up to an oxygen line through the nasal prongs and had the monitoring patches attached.
They both looked at me with expectation, as if they were waiting for me to introduce myself. I didn’t think I had changed that much in 4 years, but maybe I had.
My Mom was the first to recognize me. She gasped and Dad looked at her.
“Daisy?” She reached for me as I nodded. “You’re back!”
I hugged her.
“Hey Mom,” I greeted her with tears in my eyes. I admit it, I missed her, and Dad. I released her and went to hug Dad. He gripped me weakly.
“Oh my baby girl,” he wheezed.
I stood back and held his hand, looking over him, noting the vital signs showing that Janie had underestimated how sick he was.
“Where have you been?” he asked, his eyes shining. “It’s been four years!”
I sighed and dodged the underlying question. “I’ve been doing well, I’m working in a great job in the city.”
I watched the base of his throat pulsate as he tried to get more oxygen.
“Okay Dad, deep breaths, slow your breathing.” The professional training kicked in as I demonstrated, breathing with him.
“Good,” I murmured. ”Now I’m here, what’s this hospital visit for?”
“Oh, your father just had a turn, a bit of trouble breathing. He’ll be back home soon,” mom tried to reassure me. I hummed as I looked at him. It was not just a bit of trouble breathing. He was on the verge of gasping for air with every breath, even with the nasal prongs.
“Oh it is so good you’re back. Blaze always said you wouldn’t stay away forever, although I’ll admit I had my worries. But it’s good to be wrong. Is he coming soon with Dylan?” Mom couldn’t seem to stop talking in excitement. I shifted my hand and held Dad’s wrist lightly, feeling how strong the pulse was.
“Pardon?” I asked
“Is Blaze coming over soon? Oh what did he say about your hair? He so loved it long…never mind, you can grow it again.”
My eyes squinted involuntarily.
“Sorry?” I asked again.
