Chapter 45
November turns chilly fast, and the cozy fall sweaters, leggings, and skirts give way to puffy jackets, scarves, and beanies. I’m still in full fall mode, though. A lot of people switch to Christmas the day after Halloween, but I like to celebrate fall through Thanksgiving.
The deal on Jameson’s house closed and he officially got the keys, but he hasn’t moved anything in yet. I’m not sure what he’s waiting for, but as far as I know, he’s still staying in his rental.
The other day I went over and found him outside chopping wood in a flannel, which was completely unexpected. I teased him about turning into a mountain man. His face was even scruffier that day, so, of course, I took him inside and had my way with him.
He’s supposed to come over tonight for dinner, even though it’s a Tuesday. In the couple of weeks since Halloween, we’ve finally expanded our date nights beyond Saturdays. I guess that’s one way to tell that things are getting serious.
Before I pick Jess up from school, though, my dad asked me to stop by. I’m pulling up to their house now and can already see them sitting on the front porch swing, waiting for me.
I park and get out, approaching them with some trepidation. It’s a bit random that they asked me to stop by today, and even stranger that they wouldn’t tell me why.
“Hey, pumpkin,” Dad says.
“Hey, guys. What’s up?”
Ella gets up and gives me one of her signature bear hugs, but this one feels different. There’s something on her face as she reaches for me. Sympathy? Hesitation? I’m not sure, but it makes my heart race faster.
“We just wanted to talk to you for a bit. Do you want to sit?” Ella asks.
“Sure…”
I take a seat in the rocking chair perpendicular to their double swing and look at them, waiting.
“As you know, we absolutely love spending our Saturdays with Jess and helping any extra days that we can…”
“She loves it too. And you know I appreciate the help more than words can express. I’d be lost without you guys.”
My dad flinches at that, then clears his throat and looks away from both of us. My heart rate picks up again.
“What is this about, you guys? Just spit it out.”
“We have to pull back for a little bit, dear. We hate to leave you on your own, but we’ll be traveling a lot more pretty soon, and we’re going to be…busy.”
“You want to travel more?” I ask, confused. They’ve never been much for travel before.
“We don’t want to, but…” Dad trails off. I haven’t seen him like this before. He looks like he has things to say but he can’t form the sentences.
“Your dad is sick, Carly.”
He throws his hands up beside her and looks away again.
“Sick how?” I demand.
“Cancer. We’ll be traveling for treatment. They don’t have the resources here for what he needs.”
My heart drops. He won’t look at me. From his side profile, he looks…ashamed. Like he’s failed us. Like he’s embarrassed to be sick.
“What kind of cancer? How bad is it? When did you find out?” The words pour out of me in rapid succession.
“Lungs,” he finally says, looking at Ella and nodding.
“We caught it early. And it’s non-small cell, which means it’s easier to treat. The doctors have high hopes that with a couple small surgeries and a round or two of chemo, he has a really high chance of beating it.”
“Okay,” I nod over and over, processing the information. I’m surprised at how well I’m handling it at the moment. “Okay,” I say again, placing my hands on my knees with some pep, reassuring myself that everything is going to be okay.
My dad finally looks at me, and my heart breaks a little seeing him so vulnerable and ashamed.
“I didn’t want to tell you and worry you,” he explains. “But, since we’re going to be traveling and missing some weekends with Jessica, Ella told me I was being foolish and there’s no way to hide it…”
“Yeah, Dad. You can’t lie to me about something like this. What were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. Jess and I will be okay, so please stop worrying yourself over that and feeling guilty. That’s silly. You just take care of yourself and get better.”
He nods, and Ella takes his hand.
“What are we going to tell her?” Ella asks gently.
I purse my lips, looking out at the trees blowing in the cold breeze. “The truth.” I shrug.
They both nod.
“She can handle it.”
Ella nods in agreement. “She’s an old soul, don’t you think? Very mature and capable.”
We all nod again. There’s a lot of that happening. It’s as if we’re doing it to reassure ourselves, and each other, that everything will be okay.
We talk a little longer about the smaller details, then I hug them goodbye and leave to pick up my daughter.
And now the really hard part begins.