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“Um…sure.”
“Do you hate me?”
His eyes went a little wide. “Why would you ask that?”
“I realize we’ve had this last month to talk shit out and, personally, I feel like we’re good, but…I need to know, Jackson. I need to know that you’re not here blowing smoke up my ass and playing the role of dutiful son when you’re really counting down the days until I’m gone.”
“No one’s blowing smoke,” he replied solemnly. “I was angry when I first saw you and I was angry for a lot of years, but…we’re good, okay? I promise.”
“You never call me dad.”
“What?”
Nodding, Cash studied him. “You call me Cash or you speak in general terms, but you never call me dad. I know it’s stupid and it’s no more than I deserve, but…it’s just an observation.”
It was something he’d started doing years ago as a defense mechanism and it sort of stuck. Now, he didn’t know what to say or if he should even say anything.
Instead, they sat in companionable silence for a little while. When he looked over at Cash, he was fairly certain he’d fallen asleep. That was happening a lot more lately and everyone said it was normal, but it was still hard to watch.
Mainly because he wasn’t sure if he’d wake up again or if this was it.
“You’re going to take care of her, right?” Cash whispered as he opened his eyes a few minutes later and looked at him.
“To my dying breath.”
A peaceful smile came across his father’s face as he slowly closed his eyes again. “Thank you. You’re a good son, Jackson. I love you.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
Cash’s eyes were closed, but a lone tear rolled down his cheek.
