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I open my mouth, but then Beau returns and as he passes Mom her caramel mocha, I’m struck by him. How he’s cared for me and shown it without making a fuss. How he’s taken care of my family, even though he’s never met them before. It is something someone does for a significant other. Not for a fuck buddy.
He hands over my mint mocha. “All they had was spearmint syrup. Not peppermint. I hope that’s okay. If not, I can go outside the hospital, but that will take longer.”
“I’m sure it’s fine. Thank you, Beau.”
The surgeon walks through the waiting room door and heads straight for us. Smiling. I want to be relieved, but I can’t until I hear it.
“Your father is doing well. The surgery was a success.”
“Oh thank God,” Mom says before she clings to the surgeon in a clumsy hug.
He laughs and pats her back. “Understand, there will be a lot of rehab for him, and given where you live, I’m afraid you’ll have to do a lot with him, Mrs. Braudel. But I expect him to make a full recovery from the heart attack and the fall, provided you keep him on his rehab schedule.”
“It sounds like a perfect retirement hobby for me, Doctor.”
It hits me at once. What Dad went through. What Mom went through. The rehab they will have to do together and what that will entail. How much work it will be, and how, knowing them, neither of them will feel like it’s work. It is how they show their love by being there for each other.
And then there’s Beau. The way he took charge, and never made it seem like work to him. He was there for me at my worst. But even before that, I knew this wasn’t just a no-feelings situation. I am falling for him.
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29
ELSIE
After a whirlwind of a week, me and Mom get to take Dad home. Which is a blessing and a curse.
Their house is a small two-story, and their bedroom is upstairs, which is a no-go for Dad. With Beau’s help, we’ve been able to buy a wheelchair ramp to cover the front steps and a hospital bed in the living room, complete with monitoring equipment and a traveling nurse to visit twice a week to monitor his progress.
The first words out of Dad’s mouth when we wheel him in are, “I thought you brought me home. Not to another hospital.”
Mom rolls her eyes and sighs. “You could be grateful. Or you could be you.”
He laughs and takes her hand. “Thank you, Bethie. And Elsie.”
She kisses the top of his head. “You’re welcome, you old grump. I’m just sorry I won’t be able to sleep next to you until you’re recovered.”
He sighs. “Hadn’t thought of that.”
“As it stands,” I say, walking toward the kitchen, “I have filled your refrigerator with heart healthy only foods. And Mom knows she cannot make you anything that tastes good. No gravy, no cheese, no butter, no—
“The heart attack was from the fall,” Dad whines. “Why can’t I have anything with flavor?”
Mom says, “Because we don’t know if the heart attack was from the fall or the other way around, and either way, if you want to live a long and healthy life, we need to make these changes. We should have made them a long time ago, Peter.”
“And that means you will eat green things every day for the rest of your life, and do not give me that look, Dad. I don’t mean thingsdyedgreen. I mean naturally green. Cabbage, lettuce, kale, arugula, broccoli, that kind of stuff.”
He huffs. “I like cabbage.”
“Dad, I don’t mean Coleslaw. I mean plain.”
“Oh, well, that’s just ridiculous. Cole slaw has other vegetables too. That makes it balanced.”
“Mom?”
She smiles at Dad. “I promise the healthy stuff will taste good.”
“Alright,” he pouts. Then he smirks up at Mom. “Can I get a sponge bath from the prettiest nurse in the ward?”
