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"That sounds nice."
"It is," I say, then my face falls. "They might have to move into town again, though, if my dad needs...you know, more medical help after the stroke."
My anxiety rises again, reminding me why we're taking this trip, and Sophia squeezes my hand.
"It's okay, Ryan," she says softly. "I mean...I know it's not, but you'll get through this. And you get to see your parents! I'm sure your mom will be happy you're coming home."
"She will be," I say. "But I think I'm just...you know, this was one of the things that got between me and Amanda. My dad fought lymphoma years ago, and I moved home to help my mother take care of him. We just never recovered after that."
Sophia's brow furrowed. "But now, you're with me."
"I am."
"So, I don't mean to be rude or mean...but I'm glad things didn't work out with Amanda," she says. "And if you need to do that, I'll support you."
My heart leaps at her words. Would she really leave the city? Come home with me to Summerville for good? I want to ask, but I fear what she'll say.
"Don't you have siblings?" she continues. "I could have sworn you mentioned them at some point."
"I do, but they both moved out west and have their own families," I explain. "My brother, Will, lives out in San Diego, and my sister, Catrina, lives in Denver. They're both going to fly out to help out with my parents and see my dad, but I doubt they'll stay long."
"I don't get it," Sophia says. "If you have someone who loves you...you hang onto them. You don't just bail."
I smile. "I'm glad we're on the same page."
She smiles back. "We really are."
We make the rest of the trip mostly in silence, Sophia occasionally humming along to a song on the radio and Tex dozing off in her lap. As we near Summerville, my heart rate quickens. I don't know what it's going to be like to see my dad sick like this...and I don't know if I can handle it. Sophia catches my anxious gaze and reaches for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"You good?" she says quietly.
"Not at all," I reply.
"Makes sense," she says. "Just tell me how I can help."
"Just being here is enough," I smile.
We drive to the hospital first thing, a reasonably sized spot about a half hour from my parents' place. It's nothing fancy—nothing like we have in the city—but it does the trick, and I know the doctors here will treat my father like he's family. I park the car and look over at Sophia, only realizing then that I don't know what I'm going to do with Tex.
"I'll stay with the dog," Sophia offers, reading my mind. "You go in and see your folks, okay?"
I nod. "Thank you."
"No problem."
I give her a quick kiss before stepping out of the car, taking a deep breath before heading inside. The hospital smells like antiseptic, reminding me of when my dad was sick years ago,and I can feel the anxiety building up inside me with every step I take. I walk up to the receptionist's desk and give my dad's name; the woman checks her computer and nods before giving me directions to his room. I make my way down the hallway, my heart pounding.
When I get to my dad's room, I find my mother sitting beside him, holding his hand tightly. My dad looks frail, his skin sallow, and his eyes sunken. He looks nothing like what I remember, even from a few months ago—an older guy who's still healthy for his age, with bright green eyes like mine. I can feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes as I walk inside, my mom's head snapping up when she sees me.
"Ryan!" she exclaims, standing up and pulling me into a tight hug. "I'm so glad you're here."
I hug her back, my eyes closing as I breathe in the familiar scent of her perfume. "How's he doing?" I ask, pulling away to look at my dad.
My dad weakly turns his head towards me and tries to smile, but I can see that the expression is lopsided, making my heart twist. "I'm hanging in there, Ry."
I take a deep breath and walk over to his bedside, taking his hand in mine. It's cold and limp, and I can't believe this is happening to him. Even when you're getting up there in age yourself...seeing your parent sick feels like a blow. They're supposed to be the strong ones.
"We're going to get you better, Dad," I say, my voice breaking slightly.
