Page 64 of Friend Me

19

I woke in the dark,my heart racing.Dad. Is he still here?

I galloped down the hall, paused to catch my ragged breath, then tiptoed into his room. The moonlight shone on his sleeping form through his open curtains. Tigger, snuggled into the bend of his knees, blinked his yellow eyes at me but didn’t hiss, for once.

I closed the door softly and went to the kitchen to make coffee. Early as it was here, it was three hours later on the East Coast. Cooper would be up. Probably having already worked out in the hotel gym, showered, and dressed in one of his perfect business casual slacks-and-sport-coat ensembles. I could almost smell his aftershave.

I texted him.

Me: I won’t be in the office today. Have to take Dad to the doctor. Text me if you need anything.

My phone dinged as the first splash of coffee hit the stained bottom of the carafe.

Cooper: Is he OK?

So thoughtful of him to ask, especially after I’d thrown myself at him in his office.

Me: He had an episode yesterday. Need to get him checked out.

Maybe he’d check out fine. Maybe the doctor would tell me this was normal behavior and I’d overreacted. Or he’d adjust his meds again.

Cooper: Do *you* need anything?

My heart fluttered. He was too kind.

Me: Send chocolate.??

Cooper: On it. Meetings are going well here. I won’t need you. Take the rest of the day off.

Like I said, thoughtful. Caring. But not mine. Not able to share this burden with me.

Me: Thank you. See you Monday.

I looked at my phone every five minutes for the next hour, and then every half hour after that, but he never responded. He was busy. I knew that. Besides, I’d told him everything was fine. Even though it wasn’t.

* * *

The umpire had just shouted,“Play ball!” when our doorbell rang.

“What the hell?” Dad grumbled. “Who’d come over during the World Series?”

I reached over and patted his knee. “Don’t worry about it, Dad. I’ll take care of it.” It was probably UPS delivering my package of essentials. I hadn’t wanted to leave Dad alone in the house even to run to the store for tampons. Or—I bit my lip and glanced at Dad—the discreet package I was anticipating.

But when I opened the door, Tyler stood on my front porch, clutching a pizza box. He scanned my face, and then his gaze dropped to my faded college sweatshirt and yoga pants, all the way down to my flip-flops. I curled my toes to hide my chipped polish.

“Tyler! What are you doing here? I mean, I’m glad you came.” A smile stretched my face wide. I loved my dad, but it was great to see another person.

“Hey. I know you said you were fine, but I—I brought pizza.” He waved the box toward me. “You sure he’s okay? And you, too?” His eyes searched mine.

I stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind me. Even though I knew Dad couldn’t hear me with the TV blaring, I kept my voice low. “I took him to the doctor yesterday. Without running the expensive tests, he told us it’s probably early-onset Alzheimer’s. So yesterday I—I hired someone to watch him while I’m at work. She starts Monday.”

“Oh. That’s good, right?” He raised hopeful eyebrows.

No, dammit, it wasn’t good. My fifty-three-year-old father shouldn’t need a nurse. Or a babysitter. He should be enjoying early retirement, hanging out with friends, going for a beer at the corner bar. He shouldn’t be stuck inside, being watched by someone trained in CPR and bulky enough to stop him from leaving the house. And I shouldn’t have had to make that decision. I shrugged and looked down at Tyler’s Vans.

“Hey.” He put a knuckle under my chin until I looked him in the eye. “It’ll be okay. You’re getting him the care he needs. You’re a good daughter.”

I sniffled. “Stop being so nice.”

---