Page 113 of Lavender Lake
I went to his bedside, angled the straw, and held it out to him.
“I’ll take the glass,” he said.
I hesitated.
“I’m not an invalid. Don’t treat me like one.”
Smiling, I gave him the glass. “Now I know you’re going to be okay.”
Dad finished off the water and I took the glass from him and set it aside.
“How long have you been here?”
“About an hour,” I said. “After I got back from lunch with Jane, I relieved Muddy of herwatching you sleepduties.”
“It’s going to be a long recovery if there’s always someone by my bedside,” he quipped. “Lunch with Jane?”
“I want you to be happy, Dad,” I said.
“You do?”
I nodded.
“I want you to be happy too. Are you happy?”
“Right this minute?” I smiled, but it trembled. “Yeah. We’re talking without yelling. Of course I’m happy.”
“Salem.”
“Don’t worry about me, Dad. Just get well. And rest up. You’ve got to be able to watch Hadley walk down the aisle without falling asleep.”
“You think she’ll ever forgive me? For not being able to walk her down the aisle?”
“She wanted to postpone the wedding.”
“She did?”
I nodded. “I talked her out of it, though.”
“Good.” He messed with the covers and finally tugged them off.
“What are you doing?”
“Going to the bathroom.” He took a moment, and then he slowly moved his legs to the edge of the bed. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt.
I hung back. My father’s masculine pride was at stake. Still, I didn’t want him to fall. He eventually made it to the bathroom on his own, but by the time he got back into bed, he was exhausted.
“Soup?” I asked.
“No thanks,” he said as his lids began to close. “Maybe later.”
I grabbed my computer and crept from the room. The house was quiet. Muddy had gone for a ride to get some air, so I had the place to myself.
I walked into the den and looked at the family photos on the mantle. My grandmother’s half-crocheted project. The ashes in the fireplace.
This house was a home. It offered more than shelter. It offered comfort.
Hadley’s baby would crawl around on these floors.
