Page 45 of Corkscrew You
“Does Denny’s serve alcohol?” asks Ava, as the group heads past me out the door.
“No, but you can have a cake batter shake,” says Dan. “With sprinkles.”
“That’s disgusting. I love it.”
Mom pauses in front of me, gives me a quick smile. “Thank you, sweetheart.”
If Doc made me feel about ten years old, she makes me feel half that age.
Then they’re all gone. The room is empty, apart from me, and my reluctantly intubated, unconscious father.
I take the chair vacated by Mom, which is closest to his bed.
“Evening, Dad,” I say.
Who knows, he might be able to hear me. And he was always a stickler for manners.
My mobile has to be switched off in here, so if I need to text the others, I’ll have to step into the waiting room. Won’t know until then if Shelby’s texted or called.
Not that I have any idea what to say to her. Or rather,howto say what I need to tell her. Because it’s become starkly clear to me that until this situation with Dad is resolved, one way or another, I can’t let my attention be divided.
Like Doc Wilson said, duty first. I have a duty to my family, to Mom, in particular. I have a duty to JP to get a return on his investment in Flora Valley Wines. Those are my top priorities.
Which means, strong as my feelings are for Shelby, I’ll have to put what we have on hold. There’s no way I’m making the mistake I did in France. If I can’t give Shelby the attention she deserves, then we’ll have to wait until I can.
And if she isn’t prepared to do that, then … I don’t know.
I sit and watch Dad. Try not to think about the rest of my family carb-and-sugar-loading in a manner thatwouldgive Dad instant heart failure if he knew. The kid in me wants badly to be with them, but the adult in me overrides. It was my decision to stay here. Live with it, Nate.
Of course, my traitorous mind switches straight to the other person I crave to be with. Shelby. And I’m swamped by a wave of regret and need that’s so bad, I feel like I want to throw up.
I try telling myself that I’ll still see her almost every day, but that makes it worse, not better. I want her like an insane man, even sitting here in a room that smells of disinfectant and boiled cabbage. Couldn’t even keep today’s promise to wait a few short hours before we had sex again, so how the hell will I keep my hands off her for … I don’t know, could be weeks?
And how will I explain to her that it’s because I love her that I need to do this? It might seem to her like just the opposite. I knowIwouldn’t react too well in her situation. We all know how great I am at handling rejection.
But Shelby’s not me. She’s nothing like me. She’s loving, open, generous and kind.
I’ll just have to trust in her. And hope.
Because given what my life is right now, I don’t have a choice.
ChapterSeventeen
SHELBY
Iremember the day Dad found out he had cancer. Our long-time family doctor came round to the house, and from the look on her face, we immediately knew the news was bad.
I remember how I felt, too. Now, having read about grief stages, I understand about denial, anger, bargaining etc., but at the time, sitting there in our kitchen, there was only shock and numbness. Dad had always been sorobust. Big, blond and broad-shouldered, like a clean-shaven Viking. He was aposterboy for health and vitality. When he smiled, I swear you could see one of those sparkle effects they use in commercials. No part of me could comprehend that he was terminally ill.
This morning, though, I’m right back there with those feelings of shock and numbness, andcompletelack of comprehension. When Nate had to take off yesterday, I figured it was because something had happened with his own dad. I could tell he’d been holding back when he mentioned his father was ill, that it was probably worse than he implied, but he didn’t want to upset me. Nate’s a serious individual when it comes to doing the right thing – not hard to pickthatup. Up till this morning, I appreciated that quality in him. Now, I don’t know whether I want to cry or kick him in the pig pellets.
“What do youmean,you want to call it off?”
I’m sitting right on the edge of the folding chair in the office, and it’s digging into my legs. I can’t shift because I’m rigid with disbelief. Less than a figging day ago, this guy and I could not getenoughof each other.
To be fair, he doesn’t look happy about it. Looks like he hasn’t slept at all.
“Idon’twant to call it off,” he says. “I want to put it on hold.”
