Page 10 of Taming Grumpy Dr. Beast
Janice followed me into the kitchen. I thrust a fist into my mouth to hold back the sobs. She sighed and placed an arm around me. “He’s had more good days this week.”
I yanked my hand from my mouth and nodded, still unable to speak.
“I know this is hard for you, but you need to look over the paperwork we brought about long-term care for your dad. He wouldn’t want you to be his primary caregiver forever.”
“I want him here for as long as I can handle it,” I answered, praying for more time and the ability to keep my sanity while being forced to watch him decline. Dad took care of me by himself after Mom took off when I was three. He was all I had, and now it was my job to help him.
“We’ll do what we can,” Janice promised. “I left his nighttime medicine in the usual spot. On the counter is a summary of how he’s been today.”
“Thanks, Janice. All of you are so amazing with him.” The aides that had come to our house were nothing less than miracle workers.
“That’s what we’re here for.” She patted my arm before turning to leave. “I’ll let myself out. You give yourself a few minutes before going back in there.”
I stood at the counter long after Janice had left, wondering for the millionth time how I was going to make this all work.
The house phone rang, cutting through my jumbled thoughts.
Dad yelled from the other room for quiet. I needed to remember to turn down the ringer. It always seemed to set him off. Blindly, I reached for the phone, intending to hang up on whomever it was. No one called this number except for telemarketers. I wasn’t even sure why I kept it.
I picked up the receiver and before I could slam it back down, a faint, familiar voice spoke through it.
“Hello? Dr. LeBeau, are you there?”
I drew the phone up to my ear and stretched the cord as far away as it would go in case Dad came near. I didn’t want the caller on the other end to hear his voice. “Dr. Nivens?”
“Lily, yes. I’m calling your father about a restoration job that starts in three weeks.”
“Oh, Dr. Nivens, he’s really quite busy right now.”
“Lily.” Niven’s voice had taken a sharp edge. “He’s turned down the last two projects we offered him. We have a contract with him that does not end for another year. If he turns this project down, then he will be in breach of contract.”
I swallowed hard. Dad needed to remain in good graces with the university for a little longer. He still needed the income and comprehensive insurance to cover his care. Over the past year, I’d stepped in to help on projects as his disease became worse. Although not formally trained, I’d learned how to restore books at my father’s knee. I was just as good as he was, but I needed the degree, and that was still a work in progress. Once I finished, I could step in and take over his business, giving him the ability to retire.
“No, Dr. Nivens, there’s no reason for that to happen. I’ll make sure we work this project into his schedule. Do you know how long it will take?”
“The book is in rough shape at the moment, so it could take several weeks. Once it’s restored, we need to have someone translate it as well. Are you available? The original text is in French. I believe you are fluent in French, correct?”
“I am, on both accounts.” Plus, it helped to have an affinity for languages and a photographic memory, but I knew he only started hiring me recently for this because my going rate was cheaper than most others. I didn’t care. As long as it got me the job and brought additional income into the house.
“A car will be sent to collect your father in three weeks to take him to the site of the project.”
“It’s an on-site job?” My breath caught in my throat. How could I manage the restoration secretly if I wasn’t able to fix it in our home workshop? I had to think fast.
“Yes. We won’t need you until after the book restoration is complete. I’ll have Bev contact you with a contract once it’s approved.”
To Nivens this request was nothing. To me, it would change my world as I knew it. If I could get the job as the translator, I could legitimately go on location without too many suspicions raised, just perhaps a tad earlier than expected.
Yet, if I convinced the department to let me work with my father as part of my internship for my doctorate degree I was working on, then it would make hiding the fact that my father wasn’t there easier.
“Sounds great, Dr. Nivens. I appreciate the opportunity to work with you again. Let me know if you need anything else.”
“Just have your father call me so we can iron out the details.”
“I will, sir, as soon as possible.”
“Be sure you do that. He has two days to get back to me,” he replied, then hung up.
I immediately grabbed my cell phone and dialed a familiar number. When the caller on the other end, Dad’s best friend and professor within the Conservation department, picked up, I didn’t give him a chance to even say hello. “Uncle Ward. I need a favor.”
