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They did.

“Hello?” I mumbled. I wasn’t even that tired, but I still had almost no voice.

“Hello, is this Ms. Billie Sloane?” I didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but his tone was soft and caring.

I sat up, confused by his formal tone. “Yes, this is she.”

Everything around me began to blur as Sean walked into the room, asking me what was wrong. It was all in slow motion. The words. Sean walking toward me, leaning down to get a better look at my face. Me sitting up and then collapsing onto the floor.

The man’s words kept repeating in my head: “Your father has passed away. It was a heart attack.”

That was five and a half days ago.

I’ve been counting every hour since I learned that I’d never see my dad again. One hundred and thirty-five in total.

Now, I’m standing next to what seems like hundreds of different arrangements, trying to choose which flowers should be on his casket for the funeral tomorrow.

There was no warning. It just happened. Just as I was getting to know him again, he’s gone forever.

“I’ll just have you sign here,” the florist says.

I look down at the hot pink pen she’s trying to hand me. If you’re going to have people sign things after someone dies, at least have the decency to use a black pen. This just seems wrong.

Sean wanted to come with me to do all of this—picking the casket and flowers. I had to tell him what felt like a million times, that I needed to do it alone.

I check everything off my list, attempting to forget the reason why I’m having to do all of this in the first place.

I go across the street to a small diner I’ve never been to. I haven’t been to Hanford often, but it’s a twin town to Lakewood.

I haven’t really eaten since I got the news. Suddenly it’s catching up to me. My stomach has been growling all day.

The diner is old, with a large bar for individuals to sit at and the kitchen right behind it. Six booths are up against the windows on the opposite side. It looks straight out of the eighties, with its bright blue and green colors.

I sit down on one of the stools that creaks loudly at the pressure. Only two other people are inside—two old men on opposite ends of the room.

A short-haired woman in her mid-forties, comes out from the back smelling of cigarettes. She places a menu in front of me that has an orange sticky glob on the outer edge. I order right away, picking the first thing I see.

A grilled cheese and tomato soup.

Perfect for the cold weather. I need some comfort food.

She brings it out to me quickly on a bright blue plate and it smells amazing.

To my surprise, it’s delicious. For such a simple meal, anyway. You can tell the soup is homemade.

Sean would appreciate this place. So would my dad. He loved making grilled cheese when I was growing up. It was his go-to for lazy nights when he didn’t want to cook.

The diner is so quiet, you can hear the cars drifting by on the street outside. I don’t get why people enjoy eating in silence, I need other noise going on so I can’t hear myself chew.

I also don’t understand eating out by yourself—my dad used to do it all the time. He’d go to the pizza buffet place on Main Street, Stony’s Pizza. He’d sit by himself, eat pizza, and drink a beer. Back when he drank alcohol.

It was his escape from Eloise, and from life in general.

He only told me about it after I graduated. I asked to go with him once, but he said no. It was the only time he’d take for himself.

So I never asked again.

It’s like a wave washing over me—thinking of all the time I spent with Sean instead of my dad. Maybe I could have caught it. Noticed something was off. I spent his last days with someone else’s family.