ChapterTwenty-Eight
Chapter
Twenty-Eight
Amariah
As Jacob quickly yet carefully rushed down the road, I said a silent prayer.
I knew God might not have been too pleased with my prayer life lately, but I felt that if I were asking on behalf of Daddy, maybe He’d receive and answer it.
As I sat cocooned in the slightest bit of comfort that Jacob’s truck could offer me, the light rap of tapping vaguely caught my attention.
My eyes scanned the car for the source of the sound, and it was Jacob’s forefinger tapping on his gear shift.
I remembered him having the nervous habit ever since we were kids.
Whenever we had a major test or he had a big game, no matter what it was, he thoughtlessly tapped.
That’s when it dawned on me how much my father meant to him as well.
He’d jumped into action to assist me, setting his own feelings aside to tend to me.
Jacob had always loved and respected my parents, but it had become clear how close Daddy and he had grown over the years.
“You and Daddy are bosom buddies, now, huh?” I made small talk to calm our nerves and learn more about their dynamic.
He exhaled slowly, and the tapping ceased. It was a trick I’d learned when we were teenagers. Once I was able to divert his mind, he would focus, and the tapping would stop.
“Mr. Adam helped a lot after my injury. It was hard on my dad, too, when I lost my football career. That had been our shared dream, and Mr. Adam was key in helping us both get over the hump of that loss. He gave me a job at the hardware store while I was in college, and when my father was sick, he was there for me—both your parents were. Your mom focused more on helping my mother, which was totally fine. She needed that. We were both shells of ourselves and could barely be there for each other, so your parents were our lifesavers. He became like a second father to me. I appreciate all that he has been to me and meant to my family.” A smile spread across his face as he reminisced and turned down the road to the hospital.
“When he asked me to manage the hardware store, I didn’t even hesitate.
I knew I had to be there for him the same way he’d been there for me. Your dad means a lot to me, too, Mari.”
I blinked back tears. I hadn’t thought about the emotional aftermath of Jacob’s medical condition and what that had meant not only to him, but also to his family.
It made sense now why Daddy leaned on Jacob.
For a while, I thought it was because we had been friends.
Now, I knew it was because they had their own bond.
It made my heart soar and sad for the same reasons.
But I’m glad that my family was there for Jacob and his family, even when we couldn’t be there for each other.
The hospital came into view, and the reality of why we were here sank in again.
Skye Ridge Hope Memorial Hospital had become too familiar a sight.
Although my father had only been admitted twice, once was more than enough for me.
As we entered, I became fixated on the décor as we were given directions to my father’s ER room.
The staff had tried to make the place festive, but even the twinkling garland strung along the nurses’ station felt melancholy against the heaviness of the situation.
When we entered the room, I hugged my mother and went straight to my father’s bedside.
His eyes were gentle and warm when he saw Jacob and me come inside.
I sat beside him and held his hand. Love radiated through my soul every time he looked at me, as if I were his greatest accomplishment.
His pride and joy. I felt it to my bones because he was all those same things to me.
Sadness shifted inside as I realized his grip wasn’t as tight as it used to be.
I beat myself up for all the times I’d bailed on coming home or shortened my visits when I knew that I could’ve stayed longer.
I’d treated my parents as if they’d always have a lifetime supply of life, only to come to terms with the fact that life was limited-edition.
They never judged me, felt disappointed in me, or were angry with me about it, even when I thought they were.
I guess they always knew that one day I’d get here to the point where I could love my adulthood while appreciating my childhood.
My only regret was not coming into that feeling sooner.
But I was here now. And I’d make the most of it with them and with Jacob.
The room was quiet, as we all sat in our private musings.
Soon, the doctor and nurse piled inside, but I knew without them having to confirm: Daddy was worse.
I knew it before Mama stepped aside to let the nurse check his vital signs, before the doctor began to speak with us, before Jacob’s hand found mine to brace me for whatever news the doctor would deliver.
I could hear it in Daddy’s breathing, as a faint, raspy drag of air scraped across his lungs that seemed to struggle to release with each labored inhale and exhale.
“His lung scarring has progressed. His oxygen saturation is low, and his body is working too hard to keep up. He needs full rest and continuous oxygen support. I recommend he stay here overnight and likely through Christmas.”
The doctor’s words were a steady calmness, yet clinical in that way that made your heart sink because of the underlying meaning.
I know mine sank, and as I looked around the room, I could sense the same reaction from Mama and Jacob.
Mama’s head lowered into her hands. Witnessing her agony momentarily halted my breathing.
My ribcage felt too tight. It was all too much, especially during the holiday season.
No one deserved this at any time of the year, but especially not during this time.
Before any of us could respond, Daddy spoke up. His words sounded weak, but they were definitive. “I’m going home, and I’m spending Christmas in my own bed, in my own house, with my own family.”
The doctor started to protest, but Daddy lifted his hand, his index finger outstretched in that warning way he used to give me when I was being mischievous. “I ain’t asking. I’m telling you.”
Jacob stepped forward to speak before anyone else could. “If he’s medically stable enough to go home with oxygen tanks and proper monitoring, I’ll help coordinate everything.”
Daddy nodded toward him with a faint smile. “Thank you, son.”
Jacob didn’t correct him; he just glanced at my mama and me.
It wasn’t in a way that demanded permission, but rather one that sought acceptance and agreement.
A steady, reliable presence. After years of marriage, Mama knew that fighting Daddy on this was useless, especially with Jacob as an ally and with no protest from me.
Whatever he wanted to do, I was going to honor it.
It was nice to see all of us innately agree.
At the end of the day, we all knew that ultimately, it was Daddy’s decision, and we loved and respected him too much to take that away from him.
The doctor wasn’t pleased, but he couldn’t hold Daddy against his will, especially when all of his caretakers upheld his decision.
So, reluctantly, he also agreed. Jacob spent the next hour talking to nurses, calling the medical supply company about portable oxygen tanks, and checking over the discharge instructions like Daddy was his own blood.
He handled it as he promised, securing approvals and the necessary information from me while I comforted Mama and tended to Daddy.
His assistance was the greatest gift. It comforted me more than I could ever express.
By early afternoon, Daddy was finally resting, and Mama had dozed off in the recliner beside him.
The doctor had given the all clear, and that evening, we’d take Daddy back home as soon as the home medical equipment was ready to be set up.
I heaved a sigh as I watched my parents after everything had calmed down.
I was sure the weariness showed on my face, and it was confirmed when I looked up and saw the concern on Jacob’s face.
“You wanna step out and give yourself a breather?”
He asked the question, but it felt more like the nudge of a suggestion, and I didn’t have the strength to argue, so I didn’t.
We stepped into the hallway outside the ER room, pulling the door closed, and made our way down the hall to the nearest lobby.
The quiet there was different—only two chairs, a dim lamp, and the muffled sound of a movie showing on the mounted TV.
We sat, and as if it were second nature, I leaned against Jacob, exhaustion weighing heavily on me.
His arms wrapped around me without hesitation, enveloping me in a warm, protective embrace.
My head rested against his shoulder, and for a moment, I let myself sink into the safety of him.
This felt good. There was no more drama, no more confusion, and no more anger.
Just us. Comforting. Healing. Restoring. We could simply breathe.
Even with the fragility of my father’s health in the next room, I relished the solace with
Jacob. My head lay against him with his steady heartbeat beneath my ear.
The truth sat quietly between us, waiting for the right moment to be spoken.
He was my safe space, my person, and I could’ve stayed there forever.
But then the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, and we heard footsteps.
The confident clack of the shoes sounded like a familiar stride—one I knew all too well.
“Amariah?”