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Chapter 5
Paige
I keep patting down my pockets as I walk over the threshold of my father’s house, even though I know the camera can’t fit in any of my pockets. It’s gone for good, and I have another gig tomorrow.Double fucking shit.I want to scream it aloud as I walk down the hallway toward the kitchen. But I can’t. I don’t want to upset Dad.
Say nothing, Little Ms. Lucky. Safe at home, I can scoff at those words. I have no plans of saying anything about what happened today. To anybody.
My dad looks awful. The chemo has ravaged his skin, turning it pale, and his sparse hair barely covers his scalp. His bent elbows poke through his frail skin, and he’s unstable on his feet as he sits down at the kitchen table. Emma and I ignore the change and only reassure him with compliments that he chooses to believe.
“Listen to this.” He smiles at the laptop screen, the only new thing in the house and it’s ten years old. “And tell me the title of this song.”
I peek into the ceramic sink at a bowl of half-eaten spaghetti and decide not to try to get him to eat more. The white tiles on the counter will never look clean, even if I have the time to scrub them. The fluorescent light in the kitchen tints everything pale green, even his translucent skin. I sit down in an oak chair next to him, and Dad tilts the screen down so I can’t cheat.
I force a weak smile. “It sounds like Toto.”
“And the name of the song?” He waits for a reply, and I shrug my shoulders. “It’s ‘Roxanne,’” he spins the screen toward me.
“It’s a bit before my time, Dad.”
He laughs. “A couple of generations. I was a kid when it came out.”
The social worker recommended that Dad listen to songs from his youth. Nostalgia can bring comfort, she explained. Instead of pulling out his collection of classic metal, he opted for easy listening. Now, Emma and I hum along as we help Dad around the house.
“How was your day?” we ask in sync.
“I asked first,” he declares.
“Tim and I are over.” A renegade tear threatens to fall, and I wipe it away quickly.
“You know how I feel about him.” Dad frowns as he lowers the volume on his computer. “He’s not good enough for you.”
“You always say that,” I sigh.
“He’s not good enough foranyone. He’s making a big mistake letting you get away. But his loss is your gain.”
“I caught him cheating.” I stop talking and stare at Dad. He never talks about Mom, so I have no idea why she left. Dad would never have cheated on her or anyone. He’s not that type. I remember strangers who came to our house every now and then. And as a kid, I never thought much about them. Not until today.
Did she cheat on him?
“I’m sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t mean to dump it all on you. I had a really bad day. You have no idea.”
Dad leans out of his chair and pulls me against his side. “Paige, you’re shaking.”
“I’m fine,” I lie. “I’m just pissed, that’s all.”
I notice how his bones poke out of his skin and reach out to rub his shoulder gently while willing my eyes not to well up with tears.
“How are you feeling today, Daddy?” I ask.
He looks away as if not seeing me makes it easier to lie. “Not too bad. I’m hanging in there. Soon, I’ll be back to my old routine.”
“Your old routine is what made you sick,” I reply softly.
He worked multiple jobs to keep us in our home. Jobs that paid well, but the fumes were toxic to his lungs. Jobs that no one would want unless they were desperate, and he was desperate to keep us together after Mom walked out on us and never looked back. Not a call. Not a letter. Not even a text.
Dad stares at me, and I feel myself frowning. “Sorry about the early appointment.” He pats my hand. “But they want to observe me after the chemo.”
“Dad, it’s okay. I don’t mind taking you to the hospital in the morning. I want you to get better, and I don’t mind helping.”
