Page 17 of Great Pretender
“I know. It’s going to be okay, though. I will be fine. Please just worry about yourself.”
“I always worry about you. You’re my daughter.”
“I know, and I’ll be okay. You know Chad will take care of me.” No one, not even Dad, can argue with that.
“Yes, I guess I know he will.”
“Good. I’d better get going.”
“Okay, I—” His voice cuts, and he squeezes his eyes like he’s in pain and starts taking short breaths.
“Dad, are you okay?” I gasp.
He brings his hand to his head and winces. I bolt up and rush over to him, but the pain seems to stop.
“I’m okay. Just a sharp pain. That’s all.” He’s still panting.
“Dad, a sharp pain in your head is something we should get checked out.”
“No, I’m fine. Honest. See?” He smiles and nods as if that’s enough to assure me. “I think it’s the heat. Remember, I used to get migraines when it gets too hot.”
I do, but he hasn’t had those since I was a kid. Migraines can come back, though, when a person is overstressed like he is. It’s getting close to that month; The anniversary of when he lost Marsha. He could be grieving over her in a different way. It will be two years since her death in two months, exactly a month before the anniversary of Mom’s death.
Marsha died in a car accident, and Mom had lymphangioleiomyomatosis. It’s a rare condition that affects the lungs. She battled with it for five years and probably wouldn’t have lived as long as she did if Chad’s family didn’t pay for all her treatment. Prolonging is all it can be with that condition. Chad and his family did everything and anything they could to try and prolong my mother’s life. I will always owe them for that. That’s why I never asked for help when Dad was going through his addiction and distress.
Dad knew the day would come when Mom would die. Marsha was different. He didn’t know he was going to lose her too.
We lost Mom when I was nineteen, and Dad took years to heal. He found Marsha three years after my mother died, and she was only in his life for a little over a year before she was taken.
If he’s stressed and has migraines, it’s understandable.
“Can I get you anything?” I ask.
“No, sweet girl. It’s one of those things I just have to ride out. It’s nothing painkillers can’t fix. Don’t let me make you late for work.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Positive. Now go on, kiddo. Go be the doctor you always wanted to be. I’m really proud of you, and I’m so sorry things didn’t work out with Heath. If he can treat you like that and not see you for who you are, then he never, ever deserved you.”
His words and the prominence in them give me strength.
“Thanks, Dad. That means a lot to me.”
“I know. I can’t do much more for you than encourage you. God knows I’ve certainly made life harder than it already was.”
“Dad, you’re only human. Remember that. Let’s just move forward and not dwell on the past.”
There’s a sad glint that flickers in his eye that pulls on my heart. I know he feels guilty, and it’s possibly a guilt that will stay with him. But since neither of us can do anything to magically change the past, the only thing we can do is go forward and hope for the best.
I give him a kiss on his cheek and straighten up.
“I’ll be back tomorrow, and we can have lunch together. I’ll make you lasagna.”
“Thanks, sweetie. That sounds amazing.”
“If you need me sooner, I’m just a phone call away.”
He nods his head again.
