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I sat there flipping through a magazine. I’d done everything I could to save her the first time, and now there was nothing I could do. It was out of my hands; there was nothing I could try that would save her this time. I put the magazine down and got up and wandered over to the vending machine. I shoved a dollar in and watched as a chocolate bar fell from the dispensing wheel.
I bent down and grabbed the bar, opening the wrapper.
“That doesn’t look like a very good breakfast,” I heard my father say.
I turned to see him walk into the waiting room and take a seat. I shrugged. “It’s better than nothing,” I replied and took a seat next to him. “I thought you were going to try and get some rest?”
“Couldn’t sleep. I just tossed and turned. How is she?”
“The same. She hasn’t woken yet. The doctors say she may not,” I whispered, swallowing the lump that sat in my throat. At least I’d gotten a chance to speak with her, I thought to myself.
My father didn’t say anything, just nodded.
“Have you eaten anything?” I questioned.
He shook his head, still not saying anything, looking off into the distance.
“Want to head down to the cafeteria?”
He shrugged. “Not that hungry.”
He needed to eat, needed to keep his strength up. “Come, Dad, my treat,” I said, my voice low. “You need something.”
We’d just gotten up and were about to head to the cafeteria when my mom’s doctor appeared in the doorway, a sullen look on his face. He didn’t need to say anything because we both already knew why he was here.
* * *
Mom had passed quietly in her sleep. She’d already been gone a few days, and now Dad and I sat at the airport waiting for our flight. I tried to convince him to return to Willow Valley with me, but he refused. He told me he just wanted to head back home. So, I’d booked his flight to Florida for the same day I was booked to return to Willow Valley.
“You sure you’ll be okay?” I questioned, glancing at my watch.
“Brooke, for the hundredth time, I’ll be fine,” he said, irritated that I was still asking him.
“You can come back with me, you know. Stay for a bit, visit some of your old friends. I know they’d be happy to see you.”
“I know I can, and I will come up sometime soon. Until then, I want to get home. I promise I’ll be fine. Besides, you’ll have a lot to do when you return home. I am sure you’ll have to go over everything that happened with The Crispy Biscuit when you get home.”
I shook my head. I hadn’t told him how I’d been able to fly off to Paris at the last minute because I knew he wouldn’t be happy about it. My parents had always taught me that my business should run, even when I couldn’t be there. I let out sigh. “About that… I decided it was best to shut it down while I was gone,” I mumbled.
Dad looked at me. “Why would you do that?”
“Because, Dad, people had plans for the holidays that I didn’t want to ruin because of one of my issues. So, it was just easier to close.”
My father looked at me. “Brooke, you do everything for everyone else. Surely, they would have understood.”
I shook my head. “It’s okay, Dad. I didn’t want to burden anyone with anything. I only told Melinda, and I asked her not to mention it to anyone. It was important that my staff were with their families, especially with everything that went on with my ankle. They stepped up for me enough for the few days I was off.”
“Oh, Brooke, you’re just like your mother,” he said, shaking his head.
“Is that a bad thing?” I questioned.
“No, not at all, but you need to learn to rely on others. That’s why you have staff, my dear, like I always taught you.”
I could feel my eyes burning, and I swallowed hard. I’d shed so many tears over the last few days, it was hard to believe I had any left. I was about to say something when my father’s flight was called over the loud speaker.
“Guess that’s my cue,” my father said, grabbing his bags.
“Okay, Dad. Safe flight okay,” I said, wrapping my arms around him.
