again, shall we?”
His face changes as his life story untangles in his defective mind. His face contorts until he looks pained. He reaches toward me steadily, a little uncertain. My body, unquestioning, bends to meet him. His damp palm rests on my cheek and I dissolve into his touch.
“Dad,” I whisper.
“Scarlett,” he croaks.
* * *
I’m up and dressed early enough to make sure I can have breakfast with Sandy.
“Is he often like that with you?” I ask.
She flutters around the kitchen in her peach dress, her beige apron pulled tight at her curvaceous waist, her hair pinned back at the sides just behind her ears, the way she does when she’s cooking. She avoids my eyes as she pours milk onto my cereal.
“I’m so sorry.” I will myself not to cry again but the restless night sleeping at my father’s bedside has left me tired and, if possible, more emotional than usual. I’ve never been a crier. It’s as if all the tears I’ve never cried have erupted in the last couple of months as I’ve watched Dad’s health deteriorate. Some days, most days, he’s barely recognisable.
“Now stop that,” Sandy says, tenderly brushing an escaped tear from my cheek. “Don’t give up on him.”
The whole thing is taking its toll on Sandy too. The image of her standing in the doorway to my father’s room keeps coming back to me. Her eyes were red and swollen. She prepares my father’s pills and sets up his breakfast tray, intentionally keeping her back to me.
“He’s getting worse quickly isn’t he, Sandy?”
She stops, dead still at the breakfast bar. She seems to process my question then continues to set out my father’s tray.
“He still has his moments,” she says, turning to me and placing her warm hand on mine. “He’s a fighter, Scarlett.”
“Sandy! Did he do this to you?” She pulls her arm from me quickly and wraps her other hand around the plump, marked red skin of her wrist.
“He gets a little frustrated, that’s all. It’s nothing a tough woman like me can’t handle!” She flashes me a big grin but her eyes are solemn.
“He’s becoming too much for you.” My voice breaks. I know what the next step will be. “Sandy, I really appreciate your help. I know Dad does too. He’s just not the same anymore, and you’re not a nurse.” I take a shallow breath. “You’ll tell me when it’s time, won’t you?”
Sandy returns her hand to mine. “Doctor Heath is a good man. He’s always been good to me and I’ll help him for as long as I can. I love you both more than you could ever imagine.”
I manage to nod but my eyes are on fire.
Chapter Four
I couldn’t be more grateful for the latte Margaret has left on my desk. My eyes are drooping and my concentration is definitely lacking as my computer fires into life.
Amanda bobs into my office, taking off her outdoor coat and draping it over her arm. “It was great to have a drink last night, like old times, except we managed to walk home.”
“There was only ever one of us who couldn’t walk home.”
She winks. “Anyways, I hope you passed my best to your pops.”
“I did. He said hi,” I lie.
“Such a sweetie. So, like I said, send the CEO’s number my way.”
I scoff through my takeout cup as she strides confidently out of my room. My best friend can always cheer me up.
Confirmation lands that the Portman merger has gained clearance by the European competition law authorities. I shoot a quick email to Jack and almost as soon as it enters my “Sent Items,” he’s yelling my name.
“Good work on Portman, nice to have that one tied up,” he says as I step into his office.
Oh.
“Just doing my job, Jack.” I give him a wry smile. “Is there anything else?”
“No.” He waves a hand, signaling for me to leave.
Turning on my stiletto heel to exit, I feel his eyes burning into the back of my grey pencil dress.
“Scarlett.” My body cringes in response to his trying-to-be-smooth voice. Turning once again
His face changes as his life story untangles in his defective mind. His face contorts until he looks pained. He reaches toward me steadily, a little uncertain. My body, unquestioning, bends to meet him. His damp palm rests on my cheek and I dissolve into his touch.
“Dad,” I whisper.
“Scarlett,” he croaks.
* * *
I’m up and dressed early enough to make sure I can have breakfast with Sandy.
“Is he often like that with you?” I ask.
She flutters around the kitchen in her peach dress, her beige apron pulled tight at her curvaceous waist, her hair pinned back at the sides just behind her ears, the way she does when she’s cooking. She avoids my eyes as she pours milk onto my cereal.
“I’m so sorry.” I will myself not to cry again but the restless night sleeping at my father’s bedside has left me tired and, if possible, more emotional than usual. I’ve never been a crier. It’s as if all the tears I’ve never cried have erupted in the last couple of months as I’ve watched Dad’s health deteriorate. Some days, most days, he’s barely recognisable.
“Now stop that,” Sandy says, tenderly brushing an escaped tear from my cheek. “Don’t give up on him.”
The whole thing is taking its toll on Sandy too. The image of her standing in the doorway to my father’s room keeps coming back to me. Her eyes were red and swollen. She prepares my father’s pills and sets up his breakfast tray, intentionally keeping her back to me.
“He’s getting worse quickly isn’t he, Sandy?”
She stops, dead still at the breakfast bar. She seems to process my question then continues to set out my father’s tray.
“He still has his moments,” she says, turning to me and placing her warm hand on mine. “He’s a fighter, Scarlett.”
“Sandy! Did he do this to you?” She pulls her arm from me quickly and wraps her other hand around the plump, marked red skin of her wrist.
“He gets a little frustrated, that’s all. It’s nothing a tough woman like me can’t handle!” She flashes me a big grin but her eyes are solemn.
“He’s becoming too much for you.” My voice breaks. I know what the next step will be. “Sandy, I really appreciate your help. I know Dad does too. He’s just not the same anymore, and you’re not a nurse.” I take a shallow breath. “You’ll tell me when it’s time, won’t you?”
Sandy returns her hand to mine. “Doctor Heath is a good man. He’s always been good to me and I’ll help him for as long as I can. I love you both more than you could ever imagine.”
I manage to nod but my eyes are on fire.
Chapter Four
I couldn’t be more grateful for the latte Margaret has left on my desk. My eyes are drooping and my concentration is definitely lacking as my computer fires into life.
Amanda bobs into my office, taking off her outdoor coat and draping it over her arm. “It was great to have a drink last night, like old times, except we managed to walk home.”
“There was only ever one of us who couldn’t walk home.”
She winks. “Anyways, I hope you passed my best to your pops.”
“I did. He said hi,” I lie.
“Such a sweetie. So, like I said, send the CEO’s number my way.”
I scoff through my takeout cup as she strides confidently out of my room. My best friend can always cheer me up.
Confirmation lands that the Portman merger has gained clearance by the European competition law authorities. I shoot a quick email to Jack and almost as soon as it enters my “Sent Items,” he’s yelling my name.
“Good work on Portman, nice to have that one tied up,” he says as I step into his office.
Oh.
“Just doing my job, Jack.” I give him a wry smile. “Is there anything else?”
“No.” He waves a hand, signaling for me to leave.
Turning on my stiletto heel to exit, I feel his eyes burning into the back of my grey pencil dress.
“Scarlett.” My body cringes in response to his trying-to-be-smooth voice. Turning once again
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