Page 56 of Distant Shores
I turned my full attention to him as he spoke, and as he finished his report, his hazel eyes met mine without hesitation.
Without judgment either. Or even pity. He was just stating the facts, cool as could be.
And God, if that wasn’t perfect.
I wasn’t sure how to thank him, so I nodded, handed him my longboard, and entered the fray.
“Hey,” I said, walking up to the pair of them.
Nurse Kelly turned toward me and sagged in relief when he saw me. I really missed Nurse Emily at this moment and vowed to order her a fruit basket.
“Dad?” I asked, stepping in front of Nurse Kelly and removing him from Dad’s line of sight. “What’s going on?”
“I’m late!” he yelled, throwing his hands in the air.
“What for?” I asked calmly. “Maybe I can help.”
He raked his hands through his hair and met my gaze but looked right through me without recognition. “For the party.”
“Which one?”
“My Dancing Queen. Her seventh birthday party is today.”
“Oh,” I said, swallowing against my dry throat. “That’s a great age.”
He laughed, but there was an edge to it as he fidgeted and paced. “It should be, but I can’t find my fucking keys.”
“Hey, do you happen to have something to write with?” I asked, directing him away from that atomic bomb. For his benefit and mine.
“What?” He still looked irritated, but at least his fidgeting lessened, his fingers uncurling into loose fists by his side.
“Do you have a pen or something I could borrow?”
He rolled his eyes and patted his breast pocket. “Yeah, probably. I usually keep something so I, um….” He trailed off, and a blank sheen covered his eyes.
The crashes happened so quickly. As soon as his mind got off the idea he’d been stuck on, it was only a short while until he’d be almost… void. Vacant.
“Come on, I’m feeling a little tired,” I said, resting my hand lightly on his back. “Let’s sit for a minute.”
I directed Dad to the nearest chair, and he sat without a fuss.
To my surprise, Wilbur joined us, taking the seat on the other side of Dad, and then Adair took the one beside Wilbur.
“Do you have anything to write or draw with?” I asked again, following suit and sitting down.
Dad reached into his breast pocket and pulled out his box of crayons, a small flicker of life sparking as he sat them on the table between us.
I glanced around for something to draw on, and seconds later, a hand slid a square white napkin in front of me. My gaze snagged on the long, strong fingers.
“What are we drawing?” Adair asked, and I lifted my chin to see him smiling at me, his wavy hair falling over his glasses and onto his face again.
I blinked out of my stupor and turned my attention to Dad. “I’m trying to remember Alabama’s state flower.”
He frowned, still not quite here with me.
I plucked the red crayon from the box and started drawing, rambling as I did. “I kind of remember what it looks like, but I’m not a great artist, so bear with me. It’s definitely more… circular. With lots of petals. And dark-green leaves. I think.” I finished making the arcs that represented the petals, then started coloring them in.
It really was soothing. The longer I colored, the more my brain seemed to go offline, which was kind of ironic, considering I was trying to coax Dad back.
