Page 24 of Nights at Seaside
“Fine…son,” his father said. To an onlooker his father’s blank expression would appear as disinterest, his quiet, raspy speech as dissonance. But it was all part of the disease his father endured for having had the courage to fight for their country. His father was dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt, which seemed to magnify how much his musculature had diminished.
“You mentioned the other day that you had some errands to run this week, Mom,” Sawyer said with a smile. “You can take off while I’m here, and I’ll hang out with Dad.”
“Oh, how lovely. You’re sure you don’t mind?” His mother touched her shoulder-length dark hair. “I should freshen up before I go out.”
“Take your time, Mom. I have a few hours. I don’t have plans until this evening.”
Curiosity lit up her hazel eyes. “You have plans this evening? A date, perhaps?”
His mother was always trying to fix him up with her friends’ daughters, granddaughters, friends, or relatives. He’d let her set him up twice, and both times were disasters. The girls were less than interesting, and they’d wanted to talk about his career more than anything else. He loved his career, but he didn’t necessarily want to talk about it 24-7 or pretend that he was flattered by their attention. As much as Sky’s reluctance to accept his career worried him, it was also one of the things that he admired about her. She didn’t fawn over him because of what he represented or the titles he’d won. She actually had her own ideas of right and wrong, and she stuck to them, and it was that independence, and so much more, that set her apart from others.
“Actually, yes, a date.”
“A…date,” his father said. Sawyer read past his expressionless eyes to the smirk he knew his father would inflict if he could. “Good…for…you.”
“Someone special?” his mother asked with hopeful eyes.
“It’s only our second date, but I really like her.”
“Well, that’s more than you’ve said about any of your other dates for a long time,” his mother said. “I think I’ll hang on to that shred of hope for a while.”
“Mom, it’s not like we’re getting married and giving you grandchildren.”
She leaned down and kissed his father’s cheek. “A mother can hope.”
“Re…lent…less,” his father said.
Before going inside, his mother stood with her hand on Sawyer’s shoulder for a long moment.
“What is it, Mom?”
“Hm? Just…please stay with him if he has to go inside. Your father’s been a little shakier lately.”
The look on his father’s face might not have changed, but the energy rolling off of him sure had—it was dark and annoyed, making Sawyer’s gut twist.
Sawyer watched his mother walk inside. Then he sank down to the chair beside his father, feeling his father’s eyes on him.
“Why did you send your mother out?” His father’s speaking abilities might have slowed, but his cognition was still very much intact.
“You picked up on that, huh?”
His father nodded.
Sawyer hated that seeing his father today brought bigger concerns—and for the first time, it wasn’t just concerns over how he was going to afford his father’s health care. Today it was like looking in a mirror and seeing his own future reflected back.
With Roach’s comment pinging around his mind like a silver ball in a pinball machine, keeping hold of his invincibility cloak was proving harder than usual. He had thought about sharing the doctor’s concerns with his father, but there was no way he’d lay that on his father’s shoulders.
“Dad, you know I have that title fight coming up, and the purse is a big one. Seven hundred thousand dollars.”
“Yes.”
Over the years he’d grown so accustomed to his father giving his two cents, whether he was asked for it or not, that his silence was unsettling, leaving too many unanswered questions for Sawyer to mull over. He wondered if his father wanted to say more but had grown frustrated with his own slowed speech and had simply stopped trying.
“Son.” The word came out flat, though Sawyer knew it was a question.
He was still hung up on how much he missed hearing his father’s advice. He’d give anything to go back in time and…What? He didn’t know. He’d always spent a lot of time with his family, but wasa lotever enough? Would any amount of time ever be enough? He’d come here today to strengthen his resolve, to push away shadows of doubt put in place by his doctor, and even more doubt seemed to be mounting with the weight of lead on his shoulders. Sawyer looked away, lifted his chin, and drew back his shoulders, inhaling strength from the world around him and exhaling weakness. Practicing yoga had paid off over the years in many ways—and right now it helped him slip out of doubt and into determination.
He tightened his jaw and forced himself to speak. “If I win the fight, the winnings will cover your medical expenses, Dad. In-home care, as you wanted.”
