“Pops is the strongest man I know,” he said finally. “And he’s a straight shooter. Whatever you want to ask him, he will tell you the truth. He doesn’t want to feel like he’s intruding on Jillie and her wife, especially now that they’re expecting.”
Pieces slowly clicked together, but they left me more than a little dumbfounded. “Jillie is your family? And she’s pregnant?”
“Jillie is Pops’s great niece,” Adair answered with a smile. “And yes, Rachel, her wife, is.”
I would need to take a good long look in the mirror later—with the lights on. I’d been a shit co-worker/friend/whatever to Jillie.
But that guilt was smothered by something else, somethinggood, because Dad’s new roommate was related to Jillie, who I knew and respected. This really was the best-case scenario.
My gaze met Adair’s once more, but we were interrupted before either of us could speak again.
“Hey, I think Mr. Sewell is ready for his rest,” Nurse Emily said softly from the doorway.
I snapped my attention to her, and that guilt fled back into me. I’d not treated Emily fairly either. Her care for Dad had always been beyond reproach.
She smiled at Adair, who only vaguely smiled back, close-lipped, and I had to force back my own smile.
Emily was lovely. I just hadn’t loved where her eyes had wandered today. Or her sticky hands.
I thanked her as I walked back into the apartment. Sure enough, Dad was sitting on the couch—all apartments here were already furnished—and was suspiciously quiet.
Guilt kicked me in the shins again, determined to never stray too far. I should’ve realized there was a crash coming after all the newness this morning. And I hadn’t even checked out this new apartment yet or talked to his new roommate.
“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Smith,” I said to the older man as I joined him at the window. There was no need, or time, to beat around the bush, and Adair’s assurances gave me the courage to ask, “Do you think this will be a good fit for you? Rooming with my dad?”
Mr. Smith kept his gaze fixed on the beautiful view—the rain had left as quickly as it’d come, clearing the vista of open sky and the Gulf in the distance—for several breaths before he finally spoke.
“I lost my mother to Alzheimer’s,” he said matter-of-factly. “And my wife, God rest her soul, to cancer.” He finally turned from the view and met my gaze directly, his light blue eyes a similar shade to Gil’s, which instantly warmed me to him. “I know what it is to lose your people even when they’re right in front of you. And after my Parkinson’s diagnosis, I think I’ve been guided to exactly where I’m meant to be.”
Parkinson’s.
“Oh, don’t be sad on my account,” he said gruffly. “I plan on sticking around for a long time yet. My wife loved the beach, and I’m gonna live out this dream for her.”
Just like living in Ireland had been Dad’s before I came along.
I pressed my hand hard against the ache in my chest. Was this what honest-to-God hope felt like? I’d felt small rays of it since we’d gotten into Live Oak, like sunlight escaping through clouds. But it’d never been like this.
“Call me Ireland, please,” I said quietly.
“Ireland,” he agreed. “I like that.”
My lips tilted up briefly. “You’ll speak up if it becomes too much? If my dad does?”
He smiled at me, and the expression was just as warm as Adair’s. They didn’t have much in common physically, but there was that.
“Yes, darlin’. I promise.”
And it might have made me a fool, but I believed him.
He went back to looking out the window, the ease of our conversation acting as a balm as I approached Dad.
“Hey. You ready to go lie down for a bit?”
Dad nodded and let me help him up from the couch.
“Would you like me to take Mr. Sewell back?” Nurse Emily asked. “I think Director Links would like to speak with you one more time.”
I glanced around the suddenly full apartment, surprised they’d entered without me realizing. “Dad, are you okay with going back to the apartment with Emily?”
