“We’vecome close.” I swatted the back of my hand lightly against my father’sshoulder. “Right, Pops?”
Hesnorted with a nod. “That’s for damn sure.” His eye met mine, revealing aglimmer of morose. “I guess my heart beat you to it, huh?”
Mygaze dropped to the floor as I forced a grunted laugh. “Guess so.”
Popsexcused himself and shuffled off to the bathroom, dragging the oxygen tankbehind him and refusing help from both Andy and me. With the bathroom doorshut, I felt like I could breathe again, as I ground the palms of my hands intomy eyes and took noisy, deep breaths, in and out. In that moment, I’d forgottenshe was standing there at the foot of the bed, thumbing through the folder’scontents. I forgot she could see me, as I struggled to maintain my strength andcomposure, but even if I hadn’t forgotten, I’m not sure I would’ve cared.
“Howyou holding up?” she asked, and I dropped my hands to my sides.
Ittook a couple of seconds for my vision to clear and for my eyes to focus onher, but when they did, I fell momentarily silent, finding a semblance of calmin just looking at her and the messy pile of her blonde hair.
“Um,okay,” I lied, bringing my thumbnail to my teeth. “Hangin’ in there.”
Andynarrowed her eyes. “You know you can tell me the truth, right?”
“Whosays I’m not?”
“Gnawingyour fingernails off kinda gave you away.”
Witha groan, I pried my hand from my mouth. “I’mfine,” I insisted, turning awayfrom her and walking toward the window. “I’m just not sure I can keep handlin’this shit by myself.”
“Whatshit?”
Ithrust my hand toward the bathroom door and said, keeping my voice low, “This.Taking care of him.”
“Whatdo you think you can’t handle?”
Igrowled through my frustration, gripping my hair with my fingers and grittingmy teeth. “He’s got a million fuckin’ medications to take. He’s got tanks of oxygen.He’s got … I dunno! All kinds of crap to keep track of. What if I can’t keep itall straight? What if, I dunno, what if I screw up and … you know …”
“Vinnie.”She had this way of saying my name that felt like a gentle pat on my back,instantly capable of bringing me down off the proverbial cliff. “You’re notgoing to kill your dad.”
Immediately,my throat clotted with sadness and the reality of our situation. “You don’tknow that.”
“Yes,I do. I’m going to run you through everything you need to do, you’ll have itall written down, and before you know it, it’ll become second nature. Plus,he’ll have a nurse checking on him regularly at home—”
“You?”I glanced over my shoulder, holding onto that tiny spark of hope.
Andypressed her lips together for a moment before shaking her head. “No. I don’twork outside of the hospital.”
“Oh.”I nodded, turning back to the window to hide my disappointment.
“But,”she swallowed audibly, “I can, um, give you my number. And that way, if youever have a question or problem, or you know, if you ever wanna just talk aboutstuff, I’ll just be a call or text away.”
“Really?”
“Ofcourse.”
Ajolt of excitement punched me in the gut, as I struggled to remind myself thatit was nothing more than a professional offer of support. She didn’tlikeme and she wasn’t doing anything any other good nurse wouldn’t do. But still,having her there in my corner, when my brother and sister felt so far away,made me feel a little less scared and a little less alone. And I needed thatmore than anything.
***
Yearsago, when Pops and I had sold the old place in Brooklyn and moved into ourapartment, I’d been pissed that it wasn’t bigger. As much as I didn’t mindliving with the old man, I had still wanted more space to call my own. A biggerbedroom, maybe my own bathroom. Hell, just a little more than one thin wallbetween our rooms would’ve been nice. But now, with him sick at home andsleeping alone, that wall felt too thick and cumbersome. I laid in bed,desperately wanting to knock it down and straining to hear him snore, just tomake sure he hadn’t died on me.
Zachcalled first, making sure Pops was okay, and then Jenna. I felt bad for them,that they were so far away and helpless. They had their own lives now, withfamilies to worry about and things to take care of, but they were still hiskids and what kid wants to be away from their dying parent?
ButI also felt bad for myself, being the one to watch over him, and wishing I’dhad the foresight to see this coming when I’d decided to continue living withhim.
Hoursticked by in what seemed like years, as I stared at the ceiling and listenedfor his signs of life in the next room. Occasionally, I got up to use the bathroomor grab something from the kitchen and I’d stand in his doorway, squinting myeyes into the darkness, to watch his chest rise and fall.
