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“Seems as good a place as any,” Dad says, pulling out a seat for me.
It seems like a good place if you’re fixing to make a quick getaway. Honestly, I don’t blame him. I just arrived and I’m already eager to leave.
When I dropped Yuliana off at the house with Lana and Alexis, my sisters both told me to take it easy on Dad.
“This isn’t going to be an interrogation,” I promised them. “No waterboarding or anything, pinky promise.”
“It’s just that you can be a little… judgmental,” Alexis said.
Lana nodded in agreement, and I had to fight the urge to inform them they were the pots and I was the kettle in this situation.
“Dad is sick, and I don’t want him to be any more stressed,” Lana said. “The oncologist appointment today didn’t go how we hoped.”
It did go exactly how we expected it would, though. Dad has weeks. Maybe more. Probably less.
Looking at him now, his skin sallow and his eyes sunken above dark circles, I’d guess less. Which means I can’t afford to push this conversation off any longer. No matter how badly my meeting with Kirill made me want to run back home with my tail tucked between my legs.
“Hello?” Dad says, waving his hand in front of my face.
I blink. “Sorry. What?”
“I asked if you wanted coffee. Pat is going to go to the counter and order for us.”
“Oh, sorry. No, thank you.” Then I realize how weird it is to invite my dad to coffee and not get anything. “Or… a pastry, maybe? A croissant?”
Pat raises her brows like she’s waiting for me to keep listing things off. “Anything else?”
“That’s it. Thanks.”
Pat pulls out her bedazzled wallet and walks to the counter, casting nervous glances in our direction all the while.
“I didn’t know Pat would be here.”
“She’s my wife. Of course she’s here.”
The sharp tone of his voice surprises me. I nod quickly. “I know. It’s fine. I was just saying.”
He sighs. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“Lana told me about the appointment this morning. I’m sorry.”
Part of me wants to reach out and touch his hand, comfort him in some way. It’s what a daughter should do. A larger part of me wants to stick to my side of the table. Unease crawls beneath my skin like a cancer all its own, multiplying with every passing second.
“What are you going to do, you know? I had a good run, I guess.” He gives me a weak smile. “No one can live forever.”
“I guess not.”
I drag my finger across a seam in the table and look at Pat at the counter. She’s ordering now. She’ll probably be back at the table in a few minutes. I want to rip the bandage off this situation as quickly as possible, but should I wait for Pat to return first? What’s protocol for dredging up ugly things from the past?
“Is Yuliana with Lana?” he asks.
“Yeah. I dropped her off on my way here.”
“Where did you two go this morning?”
I think back to a couple hours ago and see Kirill lounging on the park bench. His denim-clad legs stretched out long, ankles crossed casually. It doesn’t matter if it’s morning, evening, or harsh midday, the man can’t find bad lighting to save his life. He looked good this morning. Violently good. Seductively good.
What he was saying sounded even better. Talking about the three of us… a family.You and me and Yuliana.Words that thrill and terrify me in equal measure.
