Chapter Twenty-One
Aria’s father came to see her two days after she told Ryan to leave. He’d called and asked if he could see her. She hadn’t been sure. She didn’t know why he suddenly felt he needed to see her, but he’d said it was important. So she told him yes.
He looks worse, she thought when he showed up. He hadn’t looked well since she’d seen him again, but now he looked really bad. “Your cancer is worse, isn’t it?”
He looked surprised. “How did you know?”
She didn’t want to tell him he looked awful so she said, “Just a guess. Is that why you wanted to see me?”
He nodded. “The doctor … he’s not hopeful. At first he thought I’d have several months but now he says it’s probably a matter of weeks. Maybe a couple more months.”
“Are you still getting treatment?”
“No, we discontinued the chemo.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“Yes. I’m tired, Aria. The chemo might give me a few more days or even a week or two, but it’s not worth it to me.”
Aria thought about her mother. She’d said the same thing. She was tired and wanted to let the illness decide when it was time to go. “What are you going to do? Are you going in the hospital?”
“There’s a place in Billings that has VA hospice care. My place in Bozeman doesn’t have that. The doctor wants me to go to Billings.”
“Are you going to?”
He shrugged. “I got nowhere else to go. I’m lucky to have that choice.”
Neither of them said it but both of them thought of when he’d lived on the street. Aria couldn’t imagine how bad that would have been, to have to live on the street when you were dying.
She’d been thinking about her father more and more lately.
Could she continue to reject him when he was dying?
At first she’d wanted nothing to do with him.
But his story had touched her. And she’d researched PTSD on the internet.
Of course, you couldn’t believe everything, but there was enough to convince her that her father had been a victim of his illness. Because that’s what PTSD was.
“You can stay here.” She had an extra room. Totally empty but she could get a bed in there quickly. A hospital bed would be better, but she’d cross that bridge when he agreed.
But he didn’t. He shook his head decisively. “No. That’s not why I came. I just wanted to see you and my grandchild one more time.”
“I want you to stay here. We can get in-home hospice care.” She could get Ryan to help her arrange everything. She knew he would, even though she’d told him to leave. Something she’d regretted almost the moment she’d said it. But she’d been hurt. Still was.
“No. It wouldn’t be right.”
Now that she’d made the decision she didn’t plan to take no for an answer. “I’m your daughter. Of course it’s right.”
“After what I did—”
“You were sick. It wasn’t anything you chose. Let me have this last chance to know you.”
“Why? You don’t owe me anything.”
“I owe it to myself. I want—I need to take care of you. Let me.”
“You need to think about this,” he said. “It’s a lot to ask anyone, much less someone who has no reason to help me.”
“You’re my father. That’s reason enough.”
“No. Not the kind of father I was. I don’t think it would work.”
He hadn’t said no categorically but he sure hadn’t said yes either.
*
Aria proceeded as if her father had agreed to live with her.
If she’d had anyone else to turn to, Aria wouldn’t have called Ryan.
But he was a doctor and a veteran and he was the obvious choice to ask for help.
Not to mention he knew both her and her father.
If he was going to leave town at least he could do this for her before he went.
He answered on the first ring. “Aria? Is something wrong with Sophie?”
“No, she’s fine. I called about something else.”
“Have you thought about what I told you?”
Of course. How could she help but think about it? Which didn’t mean she believed it. “That isn’t why I called. I need your help.”
“All right. What do you need?”
“It’s about my father.” She explained what Steven had told her about his cancer and that she had asked him to move in with her so she could help care for him.
“But I need several things before I can do that. I need to arrange hospice care, for one thing. A bed for another. A hospital bed would be best. He doesn’t need it at the moment but I’m sure he will.
” Before it’s over. But she wouldn’t think of that. She’d focus on right now.
“I can help with that. I’m glad you’re doing this. I think you’d have regretted not getting to know him again.”
“I knew he was sick from the first time he came here. But hearing that he might only have weeks to live made it real. I couldn’t let him die alone.
Do you think I’m doing the right thing?” She needed reassurance.
It was ironic that she went to the person she’d just kicked out of her life.
But as upset as she was with Ryan, she knew he was far too compassionate to turn her down.
If he truly did love her—No, she wouldn’t indulge in wishful thinking.
“Absolutely. Let me make some calls. Is Steven still with you?”
“For now. He has a friend coming to get him. Honestly, I’m a little afraid he won’t come back. I’m not sure I’ve convinced him I really want him here.”
“But you know where he’s staying, right?”
“Yes. Same place he’s been. The veterans’ home in Bozeman.”
“Good. That way we can go get him if we need to. I’ll call you back.”
“Wait,” she said before he could hang up. “I really appreciate you doing this. Especially after …”
“You don’t need to thank me. You should know I’d do anything for you.”
He hung up before she could say anything else. Or think how to respond, anyway.
*
Ryan suspected that once Aria had made up her mind to move her father in with her, she wouldn’t change it.
But he wondered if she knew what to expect?
Her mother had died of cancer, and Aria had said she’d died at home.
So she probably did know at least some of what to expect. Still, he decided to warn her.
He had work but in between cases he arranged for the hospital bed to be delivered the following day.
He also talked to hospice about a nurse but he couldn’t arrange that until they knew when Steven would come.
After work he stopped by the medical supply store in Livingston, which was where he’d ordered the bed, and picked up an over-the-bed adjustable table he’d had them put on hold.
He considered taking the tray to Aria’s a good excuse to see both her and the baby.
He wasn’t so foolish as to think she wasn’t still angry with him.
And she definitely didn’t trust him. But the fact that she’d turned to him for help made him think he still had a chance to convince her he didn’t want to move, not when his year was up and not ever if this was where Aria and Sophie were living.
First things first, though. Helping her get her father taken care of was the foremost thing he needed to do.
Once that was done, he could worry about the future.
But when he got to Aria’s house after work he found everything in an uproar.
Sophie was crying, apparently inconsolably, in Whitney’s arms. Aria was out in the greenhouse trying to fix a leak.
And Whitney told him that Steven had called from the veterans’ home and told Aria he couldn’t stay with her and was going to the VA Hospice in Billings.
First, he took Sophie from Whitney, put her up on his shoulder and soothed her, and gave her a bottle.
She settled down, but the tears on her chubby cheeks broke his heart.
He knew babies cried, of course, and Sophie had cried around him before, but usually she was either hungry, dirty, or sleepy.
It took him half an hour to calm her down enough to feed her.
“I think she’s teething,” Whitney said once he’d put the baby to sleep. “I don’t know why I didn’t realize it right away. But she’s always so calm and placid.”
“Unless she’s hungry. I wouldn’t call her calm then.”
Whitney laughed. “No, that’s true. I put some teething rings in the refrigerator to give her. And we should get some of the over-the-counter gel to put on her gums as well.”
“Put it on the list. I’ll go to the store after I talk to Aria.”
He left Whitney with the baby and went to the greenhouse to see what was going on there. As far as he knew, Aria hadn’t set a date for her opening. Now with her father dying he didn’t know when she planned to do it.
He opened the door and started to call out but then he heard …
crying. Following the sound he found her sitting by the swamp cooler, the evaporative cooling unit, in the middle of the floor in a puddle of water.
Walking over to her, he squatted down and put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, can I help?”
She started, then tried to wipe her tears but all she succeeded in doing was to wipe mud all over her face. “Oh, Ryan. What are you doing here?”
He squatted down beside her. “I brought you an adjustable table for the bed but according to Whitney you might not need it.”
*
There he was. Looking so … dependable. Like he was there for her and would continue to be, no matter what. But that was a lie. Wasn’t it?
“What can I do to help?” Ryan asked again.
Hold me, she wanted to say. But she couldn’t. “I think I fixed the leak.”
Ryan stood and reached a hand down for her. “Good. Why don’t you change into some dry clothes and”—he gazed at her face—“and wash your face and we’ll talk about your father.”
Because it was there, she took his hand and stood. “He won’t stay with me. He doesn’t want me.” Just like before. He didn’t want her enough to stay.
“Come on.” He put his arm around her shoulders and began walking to the house. “You’re soaked. We’ll figure it out.”
“Why are you being nice to me? I called you a liar and kicked you out.”
He smiled down at her. “Because I love you.”
“Still?”
“Always.”
Once they reached the house and after hearing from Whitney that Sophie was asleep, she went to her room to take a shower.
As the water beat down on her, she wanted to cry, but she didn’t.
She was afraid if she started she’d never stop.
Why in the hell she let her father get to her, she didn’t know. But she was done crying about him.
As for Ryan, her feelings about him were even more confused.
Should she believe him that he’d never intended to leave once he learned about her and the baby?
She wanted to but she was afraid to. In Denver she’d hoped he’d stay.
Convinced herself he would. Until he’d walked out and blown that hope into tiny pieces.
She forced herself to get out, dry off, and get dressed in her comfy, if ratty, sweats, and leave her hair to dry on its own. Wandering into the kitchen she saw Ryan at the stove. He was cooking for her. For them. “Where’s Whitney?”
“She went home. I told her I’d stay. Unless you’d rather I leave.”
“I don’t care.” But of course she did.
He took that as permission to stay. Thank God. “I’m making breakfast for dinner. Is that okay?”
Oh, he was sneaky. He knew she loved breakfast for dinner. “That’s fine. I’ll set the table.”
Shortly after that they sat down to bacon, eggs, biscuits, and her choice of jelly or honey. She chose honey, figuring she needed the boost honey always gave her. Which Ryan knew, naturally.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ryan asked after they’d eaten most of the food.
“He doesn’t want me. He won’t stay and let me take care of him.”
“Is that what he said?”
“He said he didn’t want to be a burden to me.”
“That makes sense.”
“I’m his only relative. But just like when I was a kid, he doesn’t want me.”
He covered her hand with his. “I don’t think that’s it. I think he really doesn’t want to be a burden. And it would be. You have a nearly eight-month-old baby and your business, and you know what taking care of a terminally ill person is like. You did it with your mom.”