Page 68 of Taming Grumpy Dr. Beast
“I need to explain what you heard earlier,” I said, finally looking up to meet his eyes. He deserved to know the truth.
His eyes softened. “I’d like to hear it.”
“I didn’t set out intending to lie to anyone, least of all you. You’ve probably met my dad at some point during his time at the university.”
“He’s a brilliant professor. I sat in on a few of his classes when he taught there. My grandfather also collaborated with him on various restoration projects.”
I nodded. “He loved teaching, but he loved the restoration side more. He’s always been in high demand.” I don’t know why I was focusing on this part. I needed to tell him the truth. My stomach churned at having to divulge the secret that only two other people in my personal life knew.
I kept my head positioned on Jaxon’s chest. I didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes when I recounted why I lied. Even for a good reason, it didn’t excuse what I did.
“He’s a good guy.” Jaxon said.
“He is. He never made me feel weird about being smart. Instead, he created learning opportunities for me. I joined him in restoring books when I was five. It was a fun way for us to spend time together.”
“Wow, you were serious when you said the degree was just a formality.”
I laughed, “Yeah. He taught me everything I know. I only went back to get the degree because he needed my help. At first, he seemed overwhelmed by all the jobs he’d accepted. He missed a few deadlines that we were able to smooth over, but then I started noticing other things—” I fidgeted with the belt of my bathrobe, not sure how to describe it.
His hand covered mine, stilling my movements, his thumb lightly rubbing the back of my hand.
I took in a deep breath and let it out. His touch was soothing. It helped ground me as I remembered those early days. “At first I explained away so many little things. By then, I think he knew something was wrong, but he’d been trying to hide it from me. I hate knowing I missed the signs. The forgotten dates I chalked up to his busy schedule, him asking the same questions over and over because he wasn’t actively listening to me. But then he fell behind on bills, and wasn’t keeping up with his customers.”
Jaxon curled his fingers, so they slipped between mine. I tightened my grip on his hand, appreciating the support.
“I finally confronted him. That’s when he admitted his doctor had diagnosed him with Alzheimer’s a year and a half earlier. It was a punch in the gut. I failed him.”
“You can’t blame yourself. It was his choice to hide what was happening.” Jaxon’s words were soft and kind. An attempt to soothe my heart. I liked this side of him.
“I try to tell myself that, but he’s always been there for me, and I didn’t even notice until it was too late. As it got worse, we knew he might have an episode at any time or an outburst. He’s been getting angrier and paranoid as the disease progresses.” Admitting this to Jaxon was admitting that I struggled to help Dad. Saying it out loud forced me to acknowledge what I knew was true. I couldn’t help my dad indefinitely.
“That sounds stressful.”
“It can be.” I took a breath. “The day we met in the library I was rushing to get out of there because we had a doctor’s appointment with a neurologist who has had success in treating the disease in the earlier stages.”
He stilled. “Did you make the appointment?”
I shook my head.
“Shit. Lily, I’m sorry. If I could change things. I wouldn’t have—”
I cut him off. “I know. It happened and I need to stay positive that we’ll get pulled off the wait list before the rescheduled appointment in seven months.”
“Lily—”
I squeezed his hand. “It’s okay. Honestly, right now the hardest part is his contract with the university. It ends in a year. I only need to get through the next semester, get my degree, and then I can permanently help him. Then we can try to renew his contract or figure out another solution for insurance.”
“I’m sorry you were put in this position.” His arm squeezed tighter, hugging me close.
“We’re so close to the end of his contract, but this job was the first one I had to be on site. Every other time I could work on the book at our house and pass it off as Dad’s handiwork when it was done. And on his good days he helped me.”
“That sounds like a hard secret to keep.”
I nodded and sniffed. “I hate lying, but I don’t see any other way. Dad’s needing more and more care, and I don’t make enough to pay the bills and that too. We just need a little more time to figure things out.”
“If you’re worried about me saying anything, I won’t.” His free hand ran through my hair, comforting me.
“Thank you,” I whispered. It was like the cement blocks attached to my feet weighing me down fell off. It didn’t take all my worry away, but I was going to be here another month, and that would give me another month of Dad’s contract being fulfilled. At this point I was breaking even and funneling the money from this job back into Dad’s care.
