Chapter Twenty-One
brEANNA
“HI, DADDY.” I whisper as I step into the hospital room. The lights are low, except for the hospital bed lights on the wall behind him, but he’s awake with the TV remote in his hand. By the sound of it, there’s nothing on and he’s just surfing from channel to channel.
Marley brought his sweats and some T-shirts from home, and he’s reclined on the bed with pillows behind him, wires connecting him to the heart monitor running through the sleeve and collar of his shirt.
It’s not every day I see the man who was always big and strong confined to a bed with wires attached to him.
He looks tired. And smaller. All my life I’ve looked up at my dad and my brothers, they have always been my protectors and bigger than everyone else. Maybe I haven’t noticed my dad aging, maybe it’s because I don’t want to, but he’s showing his age in this hospital bed.
His usually combed hair is sticking up in little dark blond spikes on his head, and irritation is etched into the lines on his face around the dark circles under his eyes.
He drops his hand, which was in midair pointed at the TV, into his lap.
“Thank God! If you were one of those nurses coming in to force-feed me pills and check my pulse again, I was going to throw this remote at her.”
Setting the paper bag of takeout on the rolling table next to his bed, I lean over him and kiss his cheek. “You’ll do no such thing. It’s good to see you, too, cranky.”
He chuckles, his voice deep and gravelly. “You’re damn right I’m cranky. Sitting in this goddamn room, staring at the walls all day is making me want to go on a rampage. But it’s always good to see you, honey.”
Stepping up to the table, I smile at him. “It’s not for much longer. I heard maybe a couple more days.” My smile gets bigger. “I come bearing gifts.” One at a time, I unpack the food, napkins, and spoons.
“It smells damn delicious. Tell me it’s a steak and potatoes.” He leans toward the table, and when he tries to grab one of the bowls, I bat his hand away.
“It’s not steak and potatoes, but it’s not hospital food, so be glad and enjoy having dinner with your favorite daughter.” I wink at him as I pop the top off one of the bowls and put a spoon in it.
“I’ll be damned, is that Trudy’s chicken noodle soup?” He eagerly takes the bowl from me.
“It is, but I called the cafe earlier today and asked her to make it low sodium with only white meat just for you.” Unfolding a napkin, I tuck a corner into the neck of his shirt and over the plastic-covered wires.
He chuckles before he takes a bite. “Mmm, that hits the spot. I want to argue that the dark meat tastes better, but right now, after the shitty damn food they bring me every day, this is the best soup I’ve ever tasted.” He takes another bite.
“Yeah, well, that’s because the dark meat has more fat in it.” Opening a smaller paper bag, I pull out a piece of sourdough bread that’s still warm. “I read sourdough is better than regular bread, so I got you a small piece to soak up your broth.”
Winking at me, he swallows his bite. “I knew you were my favorite for a reason.”
Popping the top off my bowl, I grab a spoon and sit on the edge of the bed next to him, one leg bent up by his hip. We eat in silence for the few minutes he takes to scarf down his food.
Pulling the napkin from his collar, he wipes his mouth and crumples it to toss it in the empty bowl. “That was the best meal I’ve had in a week, honey. Thank you.”
Swishing my spoon through my soup, I smile at him. “You’re welcome, Daddy.”
Setting his trash on the table, he leans back on his bed and rubs his stomach. “Now, why don’t you tell your dad what’s bothering you.”
Looking up at him through my eyelashes, I cock my brow. “Nothing’s bothering me.”
“Bullshit. If there’s anything in this world I’ve made sure to know well, it’s my children. Would it have anything to do with a certain young man who’s come back home?”
I narrow my eyes at him, wondering what he thinks he knows. If Marley or Kinley told him anything, I’ll chew them both up one side and down the other the first chance I get.
His deep chuckle always brings me comfort, and he pats my shoulder. “You think I didn’t see that boy makin’ eyes at my daughter for all those years? And you smilin’ back?”
Shock zips through me. We were always so careful, worried that my dad and brothers would be mad. I even worried that any one of my brothers would give Mato a beating and make him stay away from me.
Does he know more than just seeing Mato make eyes at me?
He reaches out and strokes my cheek with his knuckles. “Oh, honey, you look so much like your mama when you look at me like that. She had a distinct ‘suspicious’ face, and you got it in spades.”
Dad’s number one rule is that we never lie to family, and it’s making me nervous because I don’t know what he knows. I set my soup on the table and wipe my mouth before dropping my napkin in the paper bag.
Setting his big palm over my hand, all humor falls from his face. “Mato came to see me last time I was in the hospital, he told me everything.”
He was here?
I don’t think I could hide my surprise if I wanted to, my eyebrows are up my forehead before I know I’ve done it. “He was here when you had your first heart attack?”
He nods, carefully watching my reaction. “He made me promise not to tell you.”
I’m not sure why it hurts to hear it. It feels like yet another betrayal, even if it’s not, we weren’t together then. But I know Mato loves my dad like he is part of the family, so it makes sense he would want to see him when he was sick. Even though he didn’t want to see me.
His hand squeezing my fingers pulls me out of my spiral. “Don’t look so hurt, hon, he wanted to see you, but he didn’t want to distract you.”
Irritation burns my ears. “It seems like everything with Mato is him taking away my choices for my own good.” I pull my hand away from his to hold up air quotes.
His chuckle is back. “Now don’t get your knickers in a bunch. Would you have gone to school if he had stayed?”
He’s right. Insecure, seventeen-year-old me would have thrown everything away just to ensure I didn’t lose him. Mato saw the big picture, and who’s to say I wouldn’t have eventually resented him if I had given up school and my dreams.
But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him be right. It still fucking hurt.
“None of that matters now anyway, I can’t be with Mato.” I wave my hand in the air like it’s no big deal, but the ache in my chest says otherwise.
“Why not?”
Shaking my head, I look down at the worn heel on my boot and trace the seam up my ankle with my index finger.
Dad’s finger hooks under my chin and lifts my head back up so I’ll look at him. “Why not, hon?”
“Well, not just Mato, I’m pretty sure most men would see me as defective.”
Anger flashes in his eyes. “Why the hell would anyone think you’re defective?”
My eyes and nose sting with tears. “I can’t have children, Daddy.”
His head jerks and his face twists. “Who says?”
Pulling my chin away from his finger, I drag the tips of my fingers across my forehead. “I went to a doctor when I started having some issues, things you don’t want to hear about, but to sum it up, I can’t carry a child to term.”
“How long have you known this?”
“For about seven or eight years, I started having issues around the time I turned twenty, so I went to the doctor.”
“Why am I just hearing about this?”
Sucking in a deep breath, I expose one of my biggest fears, almost choking on the admission. “I was afraid you would be disappointed in me.”
“Why on God’s green earth would I be disappointed in you?” His voice is stern, like it used to get when I was in trouble.
Looking down at my fingers, I shrug my shoulder. “I know how much you love your grandchildren.”
“Breanna, honey, loving my grandchildren does not minimize my love for my children. You are not less in my eyes if you don’t have children.”
Lifting my eyes to meet his, I take another deep breath, relieved to get that off my chest. “But most men wouldn’t want a woman who can’t give them babies.”
His eyes narrow as he takes in what I just said before he cups my chin with his fingers. “Why do you say that?”
Holding back tears makes my nose run, and I sniff. “Well, you always say that family comes first. I’m pretty sure that most men in these parts would feel the same way.”
“Families come in all shapes and sizes, honey, and for some that means no babies. I never meant everyone has to have a gaggle of kids to be a family.” He cups my chin and makes me look at him.
“Family are the people you hold closest to your heart, the ones you would do anything for. The ones you would walk away from, even if it kills you, to ensure their happiness.”
The room swims as my eyes fill with tears, and I press my fingers to my lips. Did it kill Mato to walk away from me? Is that what he told my dad?
It’s rare that my dad sits down for a heart to heart, he’s an action guy, not a feelings guy, so I know he’s not just trying to make me feel better.
Mato’s always loved me.
“You can be mad at him, honey, but don’t punish him forever for looking out for you. Before you start taking choices away, make sure it’s what you really want.”