Page 44 of Sexy Dirty Fun

“It is, Linds,” he nodded. “We should have called you guys sooner but she insisted I wait. She was so sure she would beat it. Hell, she didn’t tell me about it for the longest time either.”

“Such a martyr,” I muttered with a roll of my eyes. I loved my mother, but she was so frustrating sometimes.

“Let’s to get your bags,” he said and took my hand. We headed to the baggage claim and waited for my suitcase to come out.

“When’s David getting here?” I asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Tomorrow morning. He needed more time to clear his schedule. You know how busy the life of a surgeon is,” he said absently, watching the carousel go around and round.

I was probably overreacting, but it was hard to not take what he said about David as an insult to me and what I did. Dad was a surgeon too and expected both of us to follow in his footsteps. Mom didn’t care if I was a doctor but she sure as hell wanted me to marry one.

“How was the tour?”

“What?” I turned to him, surprised by what I heard. Did he really actually ask me about my work?

“The tour – how was it? I read one of your articles in a Rolling Stone magazine while waiting at the dentist’s one day. It was a good article. Seems like that was quite the production.”

“It was,” I replied cautiously. “It was unlike any show I’d seen before.”

“And now you’re dating the lead singer of one of the bands? I saw your picture on the cover of some magazine at the grocery store.”

Fuck. I was starting to understand why the press was hated so much.

“Kinda,” I shrugged. “It’s complicated.” Now wasn’t the time to get into my relationship with Cane and I wasn’t sure I wanted to with my father of all people either.

“It always is,” he said. “Is this your bag?” He asked as my suitcase came by.

“Yes,” I nodded.

He went over and got it, pulling it off the carousel with a groan. “Just make sure he treats you right,” he said, not looking at me. He took off towards the exit of the airport, his steps so fast I almost had to run to keep up with him.

I wasn’t even back in Madison an hour and already this trip was so surreal. For once Dad didn’t make little digs at what I did. He actually read some of my work and even knew who I was dating. He even gave me a little advice.

We stepped outside the airport and I took a deep breath. I forgot how much I loved fall in Wisconsin. I could smell the falling leaves and the air had a crisp feel to it. It brought back memories of going to football games and bonfires when I was a teenager. Every fall when I was a kid, my parents would take my brother and me to a pumpkin patch or apple orchard.

I followed Dad out to his car and he opened the door for me to get in while he put my suitcase in the trunk. My eyes started to fill with tears as all of the memories of growing up flooded my mind. My parents had worked hard to make sure I had a happy childhood. My brother and I wanted for nothing thanks to their hard work. I had been acting like a spoiled, selfish brat these past few years. It was because of all they did for us that I was even able to pursue my dreams.

“So, what exactly is going on, Dad?” I asked when he got into the car. “Mom was pretty cryptic in her phone call and I thought maybe she was being a little bit over dramatic. She isn’t though, is she? She’s really sick.”

I could see the whites of his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel. “She is, Linds,” he replied softly, his eyes never leaving the road.

“Breast cancer?” I managed to ask, not wanting to talk too much for fear that I would lose it and start sobbing.

“It started there. But it spread quickly. There’s nothing they can do for her other than to make her comfortable.”

I saw a tear slide down his cheek and I had to quickly turn to look out my window. If he was a mess about this all, it was bad. My dad was always the calm and logical one – the voice of reason.

“I couldn’t help her,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

“Oh Daddy,” I said and reached out to touch his arm.

“I’m a doctor. I should be able to help her,” he said firmly, the tears flowing down his face now.

I squeezed his shoulder, unsure of what to say. I wasn’t surprised he would think that. Dad was always the one to fix everything. Whenever I had a problem growing up, I went to him because I knew he could take care of it. As I got older, I learned that wasn’t always the case, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try. It had to be killing him that he couldn’t fix this.

We didn’t talk the rest of the way home. The closer we got, the more I dreaded seeing Mom. Would she be lying in her bed or would there be a hospital bed? Would she look sick? I tried to prepare myself for what I might see.

We pulled into the driveway and I undid my seatbelt with a deep breath. We both got out of the car and I stood there for a minute, looking at the two-story house I grew up in. Mom always wanted us to get a bigger house; they certainly could afford it with Dad’s job. Dad would firmly say no, telling her this house was perfect for our family and we didn’t need to show off with a big house.

---