Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Finn
“He won’t listen to me.” My mother sniffles as she tries to hide the fact that she has been crying.
I step inside and hug her, feeling her let go for only a second and lean on me.
Suddenly she is standing tall, squaring her shoulders and slipping back into the role of unaffected.
“I have told him that he needs to be checked out. This isn’t a damn cold, and being on these treatments makes him more prone to infections and a small sniffle turning into pneumonia. ”
“I’ll talk to him,” I tell her, slipping past her and walking toward the bedroom.
“Hell with talking to him, let’s just load him up. I don’t care if he kicks and screams like an unhappy toddler. He is going! I am done playing nice.” She hollers this as I walk down the hallway and pause outside the bedroom door. My father is already sitting up with his legs hanging off the bed.
He looks up at me and I can see in his eyes that he doesn’t feel well. I can also see that he’s decided to stop fighting my mother.
“We ready?” he asks, the corner of his mouth tipping up.
“You done pissed off Ma,” I tell him and he only nods. “I’m here to support her, so you’re on your own with this one. We both know when she reaches this stage, it’s better to be in her corner than in the corner of the one she’s targeting.”
“Smart man.” He pushes off the bed, and I ignore the ache in my chest seeing him in this state. “Maybe you should go first.”
“Nope.” I step aside waving him on. “Like I said I’m on her side.”
When he passes me he pushes on my shoulder and I chuckle.
“You hit like a girl,” I tell him, lifting my arms to place my hands on his shoulders. Offering a squeeze I feel his shoulders shake as he laughs at my comment.
I know how hard it is for my mom. But I also know that my father is struggling too.
He has been stripped of his independence, a disease that is crippling has left this strong man feeling weak by its capabilities.
It breaks my heart, knowing that the two of them end every single day feeling lost. I feel it too.
And there isn’t anything any of us can do about it.
“How is your father?” Bennett steps inside, carrying a container and a bag. “Mom said he had a rough night.”
“Did she also tell you that he refused to stay overnight and that he’s been continuously telling me and my mom that he told us it was only a cold?
” Bennett chuckles. “We let him have the win but are still glad we forced him to get checked out. Antibiotics, steroids, and a push for an earlier appointment with his oncologist, but he’s back up and moving between the bedroom to the couch, hassling Mom, making her laugh. ”
“Well, Mom wanted me to bring by dinner for them. She told your mom not to be cooking.” Bennett walks toward the kitchen placing the items on the table. “Two different kinds of soup and some homemade sweet rolls.”
“Tell her thanks for us.” He nods as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back against the edge of the table. I can tell by the way he is watching me that he wants to say more. “What?”
“You feel like having a beer with me and the guys?”
I hadn’t slept much last night and only took a short nap this afternoon.
I honestly needed to go home, shower, and pass out.
But I knew I needed to make a trip to the store, make sure the orders were all placed, and everything gets locked up.
In the back of my mind I also know that Troy would ensure everything that needed to be done was, but the fear of discrediting what my father spent years building is always lurking in the back of my mind.
“It’s just one drink, Finn,” Bennett adds. He knows how my mind works. He knows then when it comes to my father and the store, I’m in overdrive constantly. “I think unwinding would be good for you.”
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this, Ben,” I confess, feeling like the weight of the world is pressing down on me. “He’s fine, I know this, but one day he might not be. What am I supposed to do when that day comes?”
“I think the worst possible thing you can do it focus on that.”
“Ignoring it isn’t going to change it.”
“I’m not suggesting that you ignore it, I’m just saying that focusing on all the what-ifs, that shit can make you feel like you are drowning.
It’s a dark path to travel and on most occasions all it triggers is unavoidable breakdowns and outbursts.
Taking yourself down that rabbit hole is only going to torture you.
What you need to focus on now is that he is here.
He is getting the treatment he needs and what needs to be focused on is that at the end of those treatments, he is going to be okay. ”
“But what if he’s not?” I ask, not because I’m refusing to accept the good, but because I truly have no idea how to cope with the bad.
“He will be.” Bennett holds my stare. “I have to believe that William Armstrong still has so much more to offer before his time here comes to an end. He will overcome this and we will all be sitting around the lake, poles in the water, and holding our beer in hand. We have too many laughs left, and he told me he’d teach me to play the harmonica, and I’m a terrible musician so he has his work cut out for him.
That is going to be a long tedious series of lessons. ”
I nod, holding back my emotions. I’m not sure what I’d do without Bennett through this obstacle. He’s kept me above water, reminding me of the goal whenever I need reminding. I will forever be thankful for his friendship.
“So why don’t we go have that beer?”
This time I don’t argue. Instead I gather my keys and tell my mother a quick goodbye, telling her dinner is on the table.
As I’m walking out the door I hear my father ask her if she’d like to have dinner in the living room while they watch their favorite show and I smile. I leave them alone to share dinner and a quiet evening together.