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A
va found her father in the living room polishing his work boots. He was hunched over in the TV chair, breathing strenuously as he rubbed the brush over the worn-out boot. He’d cough occasionally, his voice dry, yet he continued to hum peacefully, just like he’d done for as long as she could remember.
Long gone were the days when she would run up to him and he would playfully lift her over his shoulders. She didn’t expect that now; she was a grown woman after all. Nonetheless seeing him shrivel and grow weaker each day broke her heart. She clicked her tongue.
“Ava, my dear!” He looked up to her with a breathless smile. “You’re awake. Always the hard-working early bird.”
She crossed her arms, her shadow flickering over him.
“Please don’t tell me you’re going to work again this week.”
“I have no choice,” he said hoarsely, holding back a stiff cough. She kneeled in front of him and reached for the polishing brush.
“Yes, you do,” she said quietly. Ava gave the boot a quick polish and then placed it neatly beside the worn sofa.
“You should be resting, especially after what happened last week.”
“That was just a minor incident,” he groused stubbornly as he stood.
With a groan, Ava followed him.
“A near-heart attack is no minor incident.”
“How about breakfast, huh?” he asked, changing the subject.
She sighed and meandered into the kitchen to put together a simple breakfast of eggs and toast before her father tried to do that too.
"Into an early grave…” she mumbled to herself as she set the table.
Her father sat down and started eating, well aware of her eyes following his every move.
“I’d enjoy this food more if you didn’t look at me that way,” he spoke in between bites.
Ava sighed and sat down across from him, drying her hands on a dishtowel.
“Let it out, Ava. I know you want to say something.” His gaze was resolute.
She exhaled deeply and looked across the table. “You know what I want to say. You know.”
He picked at a piece of scrambled egg, eyeing it as if it were a gold nugget, and put it into his mouth, chewing deliberately, savoring it.
“Oh, I do know what you want to say. What I donotknow is why you won’t listen to me and let it be. I am stronger than you think.”
His suddenly stifled cough did not help his case.
“You’re not,” Ava insisted. “If mom were here, you wouldn’t—”
“But she isn’t here!” he barked at her. Ava lowered her gaze. He passed a hand over his brow, a troubled expression on his face.
“I—I’m so sorry…” His eyes, flashing so stubbornly just a moment ago, were avoiding hers now.
“It’s okay, Dad. I know you miss her too.”
“I wish your mother was still with us, I really do,” he sighed.
Ava stayed silent.
“You have every right to be concerned. I’m also concerned. It’s been overwhelming for the both of us, but your mother’s medical debt is not just going to vanish.”
