“I just can’t shake this awful feeling I have.” And she couldn’t explain why. “I want it over and I want him home.”
“I know, sweetheart.” Coming around the table, Brendan got down on his haunches to hug her. “Soon.”
Kelly glanced over to see Katie wink at her.
Kevin just smiled.
Maybe she’d misjudged him. Brendan wasn’t a lecherous predator. He was actually a good and decent man, who loved and cared for everyone in his family.
Including me, and after I’ve been so shitty to him.
“I owe you an apology.”
“Whatever for?” he asked, pulling his head back.
“For being such a bitch to you,” she mumbled.
Shaking his head like he wasn’t sure he heard her right, Brendan raised his brow.
“Well, you guys don’t call me the ice queen for nothing.”
He smirked. “Does this mean I get to call you Auntie then?”
Katie and Kevin grinned.
“No.” She smiled. “Kelly will do.”
On Monday, Kodiak and Linnea got Jarrid settled in at hospice. A beautiful building with lovely pastoral landscaping, surrounded by woodlands, it looked homey. Like it could be someone’s house. That was the intention, he supposed.
There were eight comfortable bedroom suites, each one well-appointed, spacious, and private. Floor-to-ceiling windows with tranquil views of nature. Shelves filled with plants and books. A pull-out sofa so loved ones could remain at the bedside if they wanted to.
A community kitchen provided home-cooked meals around the clock. The staff informed them their father could eat whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted it, or not at all. His choice. Toward the end, they should expect that. They were also told a typical hospice stay is three to seven days. Was it terrible he was counting them?
Jarrid was out of it more often than not. Most of the time he didn’t know they were there. And others, he didn’t realize who they were.
When Kodiak ran an errand in town, most folks didn’t recognize him there either. Funny, considering Crossfield was the size of a fucking postage stamp, and everyone in it had known him all his life.
“It’s all that hair and the beard. Hides your handsome face,” his sister explained. “I didn’t recognize you at first either, remember?”
How could he forget? And to this day, that still bothered him.
Visits with Jarrid were usually brief. Because what was the point? Linnea would glance around the room, waiting for a sign from the spirit world. Kodiak just stared at his father’s chest, waiting for the moment he stopped breathing.
On this particular morning, when they walked into Jarrid’s room, he was sitting up in bed. Awake and alert, the good book rested in his hands.
Startled to find him so, Linnea gasped.
Looking back at her, he tossed the Bible onto the bed and smirked.
“What have you done to yourself, boy?” His father scanned him up and down. “You look like shit.”
“Could say the same for you, old man.”
“Not old. Just dying.” A corner of his lip curled, and he tipped his chin. “Is that my granddaughter?”
Exchanging a glance with Linnea, Kodiak nodded. “She is.”
“At least you managed to get something right,” Jarrid quipped, waving his son over. “Bring her to me. I want to see her.”