“Then,explain to me how you knew what was wrong with him. Because the only thing thatmakes sense to me is that you work for his doctor, ‘cause,” I pointed to thepoint, “healready knew and apparently, so did you, so—”
Onehand pressed to her chest as she gasped. “He knew?”
“Yeah,”I shot at her, unconvinced of her shock. “He’s known about it for years,apparently, and decided his kids didn’t need to be filled in. How nice, right?”
“I’mso sorry, Vinnie.”
Sheused my name like she knew me, like we were friends. But we weren’t. She was aliar and a fraud, and the longer she stared at me, with her big, blue,sympathetic eyes, the more I wanted to scream into her face. Anything to stopher from looking at me like that, and maybe to pull the truth from her lyinglips.
“Knockit off,” I barked.
Onlymildly taken aback by my tone, she asked, “Excuse me?”
“You’relying.”
“Ihaven’t lied to you about anything.”
Hereyebrow twitched. It was nearly undetectable and if I hadn’t been watching herso intently, I would’ve missed it. But I hadn’t and now I knew for sure thatsomething was up. I stared her down, as a thick tension manifested between us,foolishly believing that a staring contest would uncover the things she wasn’ttelling me. But she was headstrong, despite her subtle tell, and there was nobeating down her walls without more coaxing.
Ibroke the hold on her gaze and turned my attention to the floor. “They gave himsix months to live.” I don’t know why I said it, let alone to her, the lyingnurse. I guess maybe I just needed to feel the words in my mouth, try them onfor size and make them real. They singed my tongue with the bitter truth andflicked my brain with medical facts I couldn’t pretend to understand. All whilemy heart begged to insist it was the biggest lie I’d ever told.
Andreawas quiet, save the gentleness of her breath. She swallowed, and then sighed,before saying, “It’s just an estimate, though.”
“Yeah,well.” I lifted a hand and scrubbed the back of my head with my palm. “They’rethe doctors. So …”
“So,what?”
Ilooked back at her, furrowing my brow. “So, they know a whole lot moreabout this shit than I do.”
Noddingslowly, she crossed her arms over her chest and took a step toward me, keepingher eyes on the floor. “That might be true, yes. But what you have to keep inmind is,” she crouched down to the floor at my feet and purposefully sought mygaze, “the doctors are only going off of textbook information. They know thesciencebehind your father's disease, but they don't knowhim.”
“Yeah,well, science is pretty important in this case,” I replied, chuckling bitterly.
“Itis,” she agreed softly.
“So,then, what are you talkin' about?”
Oneof her hands, one of her small, delicate hands, lifted to cover my knee. “WhatI'm saying is,” she began in a near whisper, “they might know that your dad isgoing to die, but they can't tell you exactly when. So many people defy theodds and live years after their expected expiration date, while others areallowed a much smaller timeframe. Science tells us a lot, but when it reallycomes down to it, Vinnie, it's up to your dad to decide exactly when he's donefighting this.”
Shespoke carefully, as though every word was chosen with a firm, gentle purpose. Iwas sure she gave speeches like this on the regular, that it was all par forthe course in her world. It wouldn't have surprised me to learn that she didn'tactually care as much as she seemed to in that moment. Yet, it worked, and Iallowed myself to feel comforted by the things she said.
“Thanks,”I replied, nodding.
“Yeah,of course.” She offered a cautious smile, then asked, “Do you live far fromhere?”
“Nah.”
“So,why don't you go home and get some sleep?” At the question, my eyes dartedtoward the bed and the form of my sleeping father. Andrea's hand squeezed myknee. I had forgotten it was even there. “I'm going to be here until seven thisevening. I promise to take care of him until you get back.”
Mygaze returned to hers and suddenly, I wasn't a thirty-four-year-old man but alittle boy. I wanted to crawl into that bed and curl up beside my father, theway I used to when I thought thunder was the only thing to be scared of.
“Youpromise?”
Shemust've seen that little boy, the one who was struggling not to cry, becauseshe smiled gently and nodded. “I promise.”
CHAPTERSIX
ANDREA
