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I frowned, stepping away from the chopping block. “Is everything alright?”
The woman on the other end of the phone took a deep breath. “I don’t know any better way of saying this, but… Your father just suffered a severe seizure. Things aren’t looking good. The paramedics are on their way to transport him to the hospital, but he’s fighting us.”
“What?” I snapped. “No, that’s ridiculous. Take him to the hospital immediately.”
“The only way to get him there is to restrain him, Mr. Smithson, but we’re afraid that will cause more damage because he’ll fight. Do you think you can come here to speak with him?”
“I’m on my way,” I said, immediately turning to Dylan. “I need your car.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys, tossing them to me. “Do you want us to come with you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want you to see this. Plus, it’ll take too long to load Cash into the car.”
“Sorry to be such a burden,” Cash grumbled from the porch.
Dylan nodded. “Go. I’ll keep an eye on him.”
The moment I got behind the wheel, I slammed on the gas pedal, ripping down the gravel driveway toward town.
* * *
Pops looked worse for wear, slumped weakly to one side of his bed. There were a couple of uniformed paramedics waiting out in the hall, talking to one of the senior home’s nurses.
“We can’t take him anywhere unless he’s restrained,” one of them said to me as I pushed on through.
“I’ll talk to him,” I said, determined.
When I sat down next to his bedside, it dawned on me how small my father looked. For a moment, the distant haze in his eyes made me wonder if I’d missed my window. Was I talking to my father? Or was I talking to someone who could no longer recognize his own son?
“Jonathan…” he rasped.
I took his frail hand and squeezed his fingers gently. “Hey, Pops. I’m here.”
“I saw your fight,” he said, smiling with pride. “You really gave Devil Face one hell of a beating.”
There was a sticky lump lodged at the back of my throat. “He deserved it. I threw everything I had at him.”
He nodded, weariness weighing down his eyelids. “I’m so proud of you, son. You’re going to go down in history, I just know it.”
“How about we talk about this on our way to the hospital? I can give you the whole play-by-play on our way there.”
“No.”
I clenched my jaw. “Pops, come on. Let the doctors check you out.”
“I’m tired, Jonathan. I think it’s time.”
“Don’t say that, Dad.”
“I’m proud of you, boy. So damn proud. Your mother would be, too, if she were still here to see you.” He patted me on the cheek. “I’m asking you to let me go while I still have some of my dignity, Jonathan. While I’m still present and here. It’s getting harder every day to hold onto the memories of the past. I don’t want to slip away as some empty, lost version of myself.”
My throat burned. My heart was thudding as loud as a war drum. No matter how badly I wanted to fall apart, I willed myself to keep it together. As much as I wanted to deny it, Pops was getting weaker and weaker.
It was only a matter of time before his mind would drift off forever. He’d done well to hold out this long. I was grateful that he at least got to see me win my fight.
“Don’t be sad, my boy. This is what I want.”
I bit my tongue. “Okay, Dad. I… I understand. Just…”
“I love you, Jonathan.”
“I love you too, Pops.”
“Stay with me until I go to sleep?”
My eyes stung with tears. My whole skull felt like it might explode.
“Okay,” I whispered, holding his hand a little tighter. I stroked his hair, resting my hand on the top of his head as he closed his eyes. I was in unspeakable pain, but I found solace knowing that Pops didn’t die surrounded by strangers.
He passed peacefully an hour later knowing he was in the company of his loving and devoted son.
