“You sure?”
“Positive.” Brinley tried to help Dad to his cane. At first he didn’t want Brinley’s help. Maybe he thought that since his stroke had been somewhat mild that he’d bounce back. The recovery had taken a bit longer and Dad’s patience was running out. He wasn’t a hundred percent and everyone knew it.
Brinley waited until Dad didn’t resist her holding his arm. His other hand was on the cane. They’d barely reached the hallway when the doorbell rang.
Brinley glanced at her watch. Midnight. Who could it be?
“Will you get that?” Dad asked.
“Me? Shouldn’t we call security?”
“It’s probably them.” Dad inched his way toward the elevator. “Take care of it, Brinley Brin.”