Chapter Eighteen
Timothy
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I T HAD BEEN A WEEK since John’s heart attack, and while he was on the road to recovery, Catherine seemed more stressed than ever. I could only imagine the toll it was taking on her, having to care for her father while dealing with the aftermath of everything that had happened with Henry. She was a tough chick, but damn, she was taking on a lot. I wished she would let me hire her some help, but she wouldn’t hear of it. She was handling her father’s recovery like it was a job. She had a plan, and she was going to make it happen on her timeline.
Spending time with John the last couple of days, I saw the same stubborn streak in him that his daughter had inherited. He was doing his best to play down the severity of his heart attack, brushing off the doctors and even Catherine’s concerns with a casual flick of his wrist. He was a stubborn dude, but he had raised an even more stubborn daughter.
The love they had for each other was obvious. She was busting her ass to take care of the man. Today, I was bringing them a load of groceries. She wouldn’t let me help in any other way. It was frustrating that I had the means to help her and she just didn’t want to take it.
When I arrived at the house, I found Catherine in the kitchen making a salad for her father. The way she was chopping lettuce had me concerned she might lose a finger.
“Hey,” I said, putting the bags down. “How are you?”
“Irritated,” she muttered. “That man is so stubborn. He drives me crazy. I’m trying to help him and he’s bitching that he can’t have a sandwich.”
“This is why a nurse would be helpful,” I said. “Let her be the bad guy. You shouldn’t have to be nurse, daughter, and mother.”
“My dad would never accept help from anyone else,” she said with a sigh. “I thought I was going to have to shackle him just to get him to come home with me.”
“He doesn’t like being needy,” I said. “Neither do you,” I added, meeting her gaze.
She huffed out a breath, and I could tell she was holding back tears. “Catherine, it’s okay to need help.”
“There’s so much to do,” she said, her voice unsteady. “I can’t—”
“Catherine,” I said, softly interrupting her. I took a step toward her and put my hands on her shoulders. “You have been amazing. Beyond amazing. But you don’t have to do this alone.”
“I know that,” she mumbled, not looking at me.
“Do you?” I asked, tilting her chin up to look at me. Her eyes were glassy, shimmering on the brink of tears. “You’ve been so strong, Catherine, but even the strongest among us need someone to lean on.”
“He’s just being so difficult,” she whispered. “I almost lost him, and he doesn’t seem to understand how serious it was. He’s making light of it.”
“That’s his coping method,” I said. “He’s a strong, independent man. It’s hard for him to admit he might not be as tough as he thought. He’s been taking care of you all his life, and now the tables have turned.”
“It feels like I’m not doing enough.”
“Enough?” I echoed incredulously. “Catherine, you’ve done more than enough.”
She shook her head. “I just feel helpless.”
It was clear that the tension between them was taking its toll, and I knew I needed to step in before things escalated further.
“Why don’t you go get some fresh air? I’ll try to talk some sense into your dad. I’ll take him the salad. If he gets mad at me, so be it.”
She looked up at me, her eyes filled with gratitude and exhaustion. “Thank you. If he attacks, I’m sorry.”
I laughed. “I can handle him.”
She walked out of the house, leaving me alone with her old man. I finished the salad and carried it into the bedroom, where John was propped up in the bed Catherine had had delivered before he came home.
“Timothy,” he said. “I’d get up and shake your hand, but I’ve been chained to this damn bed.”
“You don’t need to get up,” I said.
“Where’s Catherine?” he asked. “She too afraid to bring me that rabbit food she’s trying to force me to eat?”
“She went for a walk,” I said. “I think she needed a break.”
I put the tray over his lap and set up the salad. He looked at it and tried to push it away. “I need actual food,” he muttered.
“What’s going on, John?” I asked, my tone firm. “You can’t keep giving Catherine grief like this. She’s already under enough stress as it is. She’s trying to take care of you. The nutritionist at the hospital gave her a list of foods you’re supposed to eat. She’s following the menu.”
“I know it said I can eat fish and chicken,” he muttered. “I’m going to wither away on this shit.”
“She’s not a short order cook.”
“I’ve only ever needed meat and potatoes,” John grumbled, stubbornly crossing his arms.
“Maybe before, John. But things are different now,” I reasoned, trying to keep the frustration from my voice. “Your body needs other nutrients to heal. You’re in this condition because your body has decided meat and potatoes isn’t going to cut it.”
John fixed me with a steely gaze. “I can’t survive on lettuce.”
“You’re not as invincible as you believe yourself to be,” I retorted, trying to keep the conversation light despite the underlying severity.
John chuckled dryly at my comment. “So I’ve learned.”
“I know she’s feeding you more than lettuce,” I chided. “Just give her this. She’s trying to take care of you.”
John sighed, his shoulders slumping as he reached for the fork. “I know, I know,” he muttered, his voice filled with frustration. “But it’s hard, Timothy. Seeing her like this breaks my heart.”
I felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing how much he cared for Catherine. “I understand, John,” I replied, my tone softer now. “But you need to stay strong for her. She needs you now more than ever.”
John sighed. “You’re right,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “I’m just not used to being down. She’s been trying to take care of me for years. I just want her to get out there and live her life.”
“You need to take care of yourself, for her sake,” I told him.
He nodded. “I’ll try,” he promised. “I know she worries.”
“Maybe I’ll ask her if she’ll let my chef prepare some meals,” I said.
John snorted. “Don’t count on it. She’s stubborn.”
“I wonder where she gets it from,” I said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
John chuckled, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards for what seemed like the first time in days. “I guess you’ve got me there, Timothy.”
We sat in silence for a while, the only sound being John’s slow chewing as he begrudgingly worked his way through the salad.
“I mean it about the chef, though.” I broke the silence after a while. “I can have him cook everything to the hospital’s specifications. And he’s a professional. He can make even rabbit food taste good.”
John grunted noncommittally, not taking his eyes off his plate. He was still a proud man, and I knew it would take a lot for him to accept outside help, even from me. But I could see the quiet resignation set in his eyes. He knew he couldn’t keep fighting Catherine on this.
“That sounds reasonable,” he finally admitted, spearing a piece of tomato with his fork and popping it into his mouth. “But I still don’t think you’re going to convince Catherine to accept it. I think this is payback for making her eat cooked carrots all those years.”
I laughed. “Maybe a little. I’ll talk to Catherine about it. Let’s not make this any harder than it needs to be, all right?”
John gave a grunt that may have been an agreement before he finally finished his salad.
“Can you do me a favor?” John asked.
“Absolutely,” I answered. “What is it?”
“Take Catherine out,” he said. “She could use a night away.”
“I’m not sure she’s going to go for that,” I said.
“I don’t need a babysitter. I just lay in bed sleeping or watching TV. She needs to get out of the house. It’ll be good for both of us. I need a little peace. I went from the hospital being woke up every hour to ask if I was sleeping fine to coming here and Catherine waking me up every hour to ask if I’m sleeping. I need a break.”
I didn’t blame him. “I understand,” I said. “I’ll talk to her, but I’m not sure I even have that kind of power.”
Catherine walked into the room. I handed her the empty dish. “All gone.”
She smiled. “Good job.”
“I’m going to take a nap,” John said.
Catherine walked over to him, tucking the blanket around him. “Get some sleep.”
We walked out of the room and back to the kitchen. “Did you guys talk?” she asked.
“We did. How about I take you out for a little while? A change of scenery might do you good.”
She hesitated for a moment. “I can’t leave him alone.”
“Catherine, he’s the one that suggested it. He needs a little alone time. He’s an independent man and this situation is hard enough on him. We’ll be close. He’ll have his phone to call for help.”
Finally, she nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “All right,” she murmured, her voice soft. “But where are we going?”
I grinned at her, feeling a surge of determination. “It’s a surprise,” I replied cryptically, leading her toward the door. “But I promise you’ll have a good time.”
“Did he give you an earful?” she asked.
I chuckled. “You guys need a break from each other. You’ve been at his side since the minute he dropped. You can’t take care of him if you’re dead on your feet or fried.”
“I know, I know. Maybe we should do it tomorrow. Then I’ll have time to bring a nurse in.”
“The idea is to give him a little independence,” I said as gently as I could. “We’ll stay close.”
Catherine’s brow furrowed for a moment, but ultimately, she agreed. “Okay,” she acquiesced.
“I’ll be back to pick you up around six if that works?”
“I’ll feed Dad early.” She nodded.
“Maybe slip him some chicken,” I said with a wink.
She groaned and rolled her eyes. “He complained about the salad.”
“He did.”
“It’s on the menu,” she sighed.
“I know.” I smiled and gave her a kiss. “He knows it as well. He’s going to complain, but he does appreciate it. He knows you’re doing a good job. I think he’s just frustrated.”
“I know,” she sighed. “I feel terrible that he’s weak and not able to do what he normally does, but yelling at me isn’t going to help.”
“You two love each other. I know you’ll get through this. He’s already looking a lot better and since he’s so feisty, I think it’s a good sign. It means he’s feeling better.”
“True.” She smiled.
“I’ll be back soon,” I said and gave her another kiss.