Page 99 of Sincerely, Mr. Braden

“Because I needed him.” I begin emptying the bakery bag onto plates. Two ham and cheese croissants, a blueberry muffin, and a small cup of strawberry jam, my father’s favorite.

“Why?”

Because the next few months are going to suck. “No reason.”

He grunts and takes a sip of coffee, giving me a look that says Don’t start with me, kid. “You bribing the brat with muffins now?”

“I got the muffin for you, but don’t tempt me.” I set a plate in front of him with a croissant, the muffin, and jam.

His eyes narrow, and he takes off his glasses. “You look like hell.”

“Thanks, Dad. You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself.”

“You been sleeping?”

I shrug and pop a coffee pod into the coffee maker.

His brow furrows. “Something happen?”

“No.” I reach into the fridge for the orange juice and sigh when there is none. Damn it. I should’ve thought to get it.

“Taylor.”

The way he says it, quiet but firm, in that fatherly voice I can’t ignore, gets to me. “Seth’s going to Australia.”

He frowns. “Yeah? Wasn’t that the plan? Australia for a week or so here and there?”

“Yes, but he’s got to go for a few months.”

“So go with him.” He spreads jam on his muffin. “It’s not like you’ve got a job holding you back.”

I lean against the counter, giving him a deadpan stare.

“You love him, don’t ya?”

As I turn to get my coffee, I see my father’s daily pill case. Today’s pills are still in the Thursday section. “You didn’t take your pills.”

“I was getting to it,” he grumbles.

“Were you?” I snap, and pick up the pill container, waving it at him. “Because this is why I can’t go.”

He presses his lips into a hard line. “I never asked you to stay and babysit me.”

“Don’t.” I smack the container down on the counter. Irritated with myself but unable to rein in my emotions.

“I’m just saying, maybe it’s time you stop treating me like I’m about to keel over.”

“Maybe it’s time you stop pretending you’re fine,” I fire back.

“You think this is fine?” His voice escalates. “You think I don’t know what’s happening to me?”

“I think you act like you don’t care.”

“Because I don’t want to spend what time I have left in a functioning body feeling sorry for myself!” He slaps the table, and Barney jumps up on all fours, looking between us. “You can’t wrap me in Bubble Wrap for the rest of my life or watch my every move.”

“That’s not what I’m doing!”

“Really? Because you’re here all the time, and you can’t even see your own future without me in it.”