Every Last Fear(36)
In the residential section, Cindy stopped in front of a closed door. Underneath a medical chart there was a sign that read, I’M CHARLIE FORD. I HAVE TWO DAUGHTERS AND FOUR GRANDCHILDREN. I WAS IN THE ARMY THEN SPENT MY CAREER WORKING AS A WELDER AT ADAIR IRRIGATION. It was a cue card for the staff, to give them conversation starters and to remind them that her father was a real person before the monster had stolen him.
“You think it’s okay for…” Liv directed her glance at Tommy.
“It should be fine. If not, I can take him into the courtyard. The shelter brings over dogs to play with residents, so maybe there’ll be some puppies.”
“Puppies?” Tommy said, perking up.
Cindy knocked loudly, waited a beat, then opened the door slowly when no response came.
Their father was sitting in his old lounge chair from home, staring blankly at a television that had the volume muted. The room was spacious, at least—a hospital bed lodged in the corner and a small round table for meals.
Liv’s heart sank at the sight of him. He was too thin, the skin on his neck loose, his hands bony around the arms of the chair.
“Hi, Dad,” Cindy said in a loud voice.
Their father didn’t turn his head.
Cindy stepped in front of the television and crouched at eye level. “I have a surprise for you.” She stretched out her arm for Liv to come within their father’s field of vision.
Liv walked over. Tommy stayed by the door, a puzzled look on his face.
“Hi, Daddy,” Liv said.
Her father’s eyes lifted to Liv’s face. Then his own face brightened.
“Olive Oyl?”
Liv broke into a smile. He’d called her that since she was a little girl. They’d watched Popeye cartoons together, and he’d show her his tattoo and flex his biceps and laugh like the sailor. Though he hid it from the outside world, he was a tender man, her father.
She knelt down and put her hand on his, trying not to tear up.
Tommy strolled over to his mother. “Hi, Grandpa.”
“Danny boy!” her father said.
“I’m Tommy,” he said, offended.
His grandfather appeared confused.
“How about we give your mommy some time to catch up with Grandpa?” Cindy said, taking Tommy by the hand. He hesitated until Cindy added, “Was that a puppy I heard barking?”
Liv mouthed thank you as they left the room. It was then she saw the sadness in her sister’s eyes. Cindy had their father’s face, but Liv had his heart. She pulled a chair from the dining table and positioned it next to the recliner. They watched the muted television, a sports channel, for a long while. Her father held her hand, intermittently turning to her and smiling.
Unexpectedly, he blurted, “Where’s Eddie Haskell?”
It was her father’s nickname for Noah Brawn, Liv’s high school boyfriend and the soon-to-be governor. Haskell was a character from an old television show known for his insincere flattery and sneakiness. The nickname wasn’t meant as an insult. Just a recognition that Noah—with his politician’s charm, even as a teenager—wasn’t fooling her dad.
Liv was about to explain that she was married to Evan, but her father’s thousand-yard stare had returned. He was like a time traveler, jumping from year to year, place to place, the timeline scrambled along the way.
Liv’s mind did its own time travel. She was home on a break from Northwestern and had a dilemma. There was a boy, someone new—a decision to be made. She’d dated Noah throughout high school, but they attended different colleges. At first they’d stayed close—speaking every night on the phone, spending breaks together. But predictably, they started drifting.
And then Liv met Evan.
“What should I do, Daddy?”
“Who treats you better?”
“They both treat me well.”
“What do your heart and mind tell you?”
“Mind says Noah. He’s driven, wants to be governor someday, maybe even run for president. I know with him I’ll have a bigger life.”
“And your heart?”
Liv smiled, thinking of Evan. “I can’t explain it, but when he’s near me, I feel more at ease than anytime in my life. And he’s willing to come back to Adair like I want. He said he doesn’t care about Chicago or his career; he just wants to be with me. Have a family, make a life.”
Her father rubbed his chin. “I can’t make this decision for you, Olive Oyl.”
“What would Mom tell me to do?”
Her father gave a fleeting smile. “She’d probably tell you to go for the boy who wants to be part of your story, not just you being part of his.”
The grunt of a snore interrupted her thoughts. Her father’s head drooped to his chest.
Cindy popped her head in. “Tommy’s playing with the dogs. The staff said they could watch him for a few while we talk to the director.”
Liv softly removed her hand from her father’s and stood. She kissed him on his head. “Let’s get this over with.”
CHAPTER 22
The director of Twilight Meadows smiled at Liv and gestured for her to take a seat. Dennis Chang wore khakis and a Mister Rogers sweater. His desk was paperless, the office spotless, the domain of a perfectionist. Cindy didn’t say anything, just plopped down in the seat next to Liv’s.