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With what was obviously a considerable effort, Ed lifted his left arm—the weak one—a few inches off the bed and wiggled his fingers.
He wanted her to come closer.
Brooke obeyed, moving to stand beside the bed. Ed’s fingers twitched, reaching out for her.
She shifted closer and took his hand. It felt cold and feeble in hers, but his fingers grasped at her with surprising strength.
The two of them stood there like that for a while, just looking at each other and holding hands, before Ed’s mouth moved again. This time it opened, and a ragged sound came out. He did scowl then, and she realized he was trying to speak. His right hand reached out toward his wife as he turned his head to look at her, and Debbie set the whiteboard beside him and put the uncapped marker in his hand.
Brooke’s stomach roiled as she watched him start to write.This must be what it feels like to be seasick, she thought. She’d never been seasick in her life, but she’d spent a summer working on a whale-watching tour boat, which the job description had failed to mention mostly consisted of nursing seasick passengers. This terrible nausea and unsteadiness definitely fit the bill. Even though she was standing still, her legs were all wobbly like she’d just stepped off a boat onto dry land, and her stomach lurched as if she was sailing on choppy seas.
She looked down at the floor, trying to regain her equilibrium.
Her father finished writing and shoved the whiteboard in front of her. His handwriting had always been messy, and it hadn’t been improved by the stroke and his current weakness. It took her a second to decipher his scrawl:
I’m sorry. I love you.
She was a little surprised she didn’t cry. But therewasa lump in her throat making it difficult to swallow.
All her life, she’d been grasping for her father’s love, only to have it snatched away from her. And now here he was offering it again, after she’d finally accepted she didn’t need it.
Maybe she was too tired to cry. Tired of the resentment and silent recriminations. Tired of carrying all this bitterness with her.
Her father was watching her, his eyes watering as they tracked her reaction. He was waiting for her to respond. He’d made his overture of reconciliation and the ball was in her court now.
Brooke squeezed his hand and forced a smile. “I know, Dad,” she said. “I love you too.”
She wasn’t entirely certain that second part was true. It would take some time to parse her own feelings, and she was too numb right now to properly do that.
But it might be true, and more importantly, it seemed like the kind thing to say under the circumstances. For now, that was a good enough reason to say it.
She didn’t quite forgive him, not yet. But she did feel sorry for him. She didn’t wish him ill. He wasn’t a monster; he was just a weak and unhappy person. He didn’t deserve to be lying in this bed like this, and if she could offer him a little comfort by saying what he wanted to hear, she was a generous enough person to do it.
Brooke’s father was a stubborn asshole who’d refused to compromise his worldview to accept her for who she was, but she did believe he loved her. If he hadn’t, he would have forgiven her more easily. It was stupid, and shitty, but there it was. People were flawed and messy. Even the ones who loved you.
She didn’tneedher father’s love, but it was nice to know she had it.
It wasn’t everything, but it wasn’t nothing either.
Brooke stayedwith her father for another ten minutes, holding his hand until he dozed off. Once he started snoring, she slipped her fingers out of his and quietly kissed her mother goodnight.
When she walked back into the waiting room, Dylan and both her brothers looked up. The sight of the three of them together, waiting for her with matching expressions of exhaustion and worry etched into their faces, made her heart feel too big for her chest.
All this time she’d thought she didn’t have a family anymore, and yet here they all were. Waiting for her to come back to them.
Dylan’s eyes were brimming with questions he didn’t ask as he got up to meet her. For a second it looked like he wanted to give her a hug, but instead he stopped just in front of her, plunging his hands into his pockets like he didn’t know what to do with them.
“Everything go okay?” Teddy asked.
“Yeah,” Brooke answered, never taking her eyes off Dylan. “It was fine.” She watched his whole body relax as he exhaled the tension he’d been holding on to.
“I don’t know about y’all, but I’m beat,” Justin said, standing up and stretching. “I’m gonna go home and get some sleep. Meet back here in the morning? I’ll bring breakfast.”
Teddy pushed himself to his feet and looked uncertainly at Brooke. “You can stay at my place,” he offered. “If you don’t want to go back to the old house.”
Brooke looked at Dylan, then back at her oldest brother, who seemed to understand her better than she expected. “I appreciate it, but I’ll be okay at Mom and Dad’s.”
She needed to take Dylan back to his parents’ house anyway. He’d probably be happy to get himself home in a cab, but she wasn’t ready to say goodnight to him yet. She wanted to have him to herself for a little while longer.
