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I nod, swallowing past the lump in my throat. I feel like crying for some strange reason. I think the little boy in me is mourning what could have been if my dad had been different.
“I’ll be there,” I finally say when I can find my voice.
This lunch didn’t go at all how I’d planned. I’d honestly thought we’d get into a fight and I was going to tell him I was done, that I couldn’t fucking do this anymore.
Little did I know that fate had alr
eady decided that fact for me.
In a couple of weeks, my dad will be dead.
He’ll simply cease to exist.
Nothing more than a memory.
That’s all that’s ever truly left of any of us—a memory—so, I guess you better make sure they’re all good ones.
“How’d it go?” Nova asks before she even takes her coat off.
I set my book down and stretch my arm over the back of the couch. “It was … unexpected.”
“Elaborate.” She unties her scarf and hangs it up with her coat. She looks cute with her chilled red nose and a floppy gray beanie and mittens. She takes those off and drops them in the basket by the door.
“He has cancer.”
Her mouth pops open—my reaction exactly. “What?”
“He only has a couple more weeks to live.”
“Oh, my God. Are you okay?” She rushes to me and jumps onto the couch beside me.
I nod. “Yeah, I am. We talked for a while … It was the longest I think we’ve ever talked without fighting. Is it strange to say it was nice?”
“Not at all—he is your dad. Even though he’s an asshole I think it’s understandable for you to crave some sort of bond and acceptance from him. I can’t believe he’s dying.”
“Yeah, and soon too.” I laugh but there’s no humor in the tone. “He says he has two weeks, a month tops, to live.”
“Wow.” Nova looks at me with wide, worried eyes. She touches her hand to mine, and I wrap my fingers around hers. My hand swallows hers whole. “I hate to say this, but do you think maybe he’s lying?”
I shake my head. “’Fraid not. It’s definitely the truth.”
“I’m sorry.” She wraps her arms around me and I let her hug me.
“Thanks.”
“If you need to talk about it, I’m here, you know that, right?”
“I do.” I tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, purposely skimming my fingers over her cheek. “Have you heard from Sarah?” I ask, desperate to change the subject. The last couple of hours my mind has only been occupied with thoughts of my father’s impending death. I need something else to focus on.
“I have, actually,” she beams, so I know it must be good news. “We’re meeting next weekend at a local ice-skating rink. You’ll come with me, right?”
“If you want me to.”
“I definitely want you to.” She nods. “I need you there to keep me from freaking out.”
“Then I’ll be there.” I lean over and kiss her, my lips lingering a little longer than necessary.
All afternoon while I sat with my dad, I wished she was there, because her presence alone gives me strength.
