Desperately Seeking Epic(66)

When I get home, Neena and Clara are both hiding in their rooms. Clara is curled up on her bed, balled up tissues surrounding her.

“What’s wrong?” I ask as I sit beside her and squeeze her leg.

She sniffles as she sits up and turns so she’s facing me. Her blue eyes are glossed over with tears, her nose red from rubbing. “Neena just had a breakdown, I guess.” She shakes her head. “I don’t know . . . she’s so sad and I just want to help, but she says I’m smothering her. So I’m giving her the space she asked for.” She stifles a sob. “I just want to take all of this from her, Paul. I want to be the one to carry that burden. She should be healthy and happy and living life to the fullest. She shouldn’t have to look at herself wishing she looked different for a boy,” she finishes.

“What?”

“I think that might be what spurred this,” she motioned her hand haphazardly, “her meltdown. I think she really likes Mills and he’s not interested. He could at least be her friend.”

My insides twist with anger. How dare he not like my daughter? Asshole. Of course he’s too old for her so if he would, I’d want to beat the crap out of him. But it doesn’t cost a damn thing to be friendly. Yet I’d balked at them being friendly. Shit. Mills is pretty much in a no-win situation here, when it comes to Neena. Poor guy.

“I’ll go and talk to her,” I tell her before pulling her toward me and kissing her forehead.

Clara sighs and flops back on the bed and returns to her previous position. “Good luck.”

When I knock on Neena’s door, she doesn’t answer, so I knock again. Louder this time.

“What?” she yells. My head rears back at her tone. I’ve never heard her sound so . . . annoyed.

“Uh . . . it’s Dad. Can I come in?”

“Now’s not a good time.”

“Neena, we need to talk, princess.”

“Can we talk later, Dad? I’m tired.” I thud my head against her door in frustration. I understand Clara’s anxiety. I want to fix this. What is going on with her? Something’s up. I can feel it in my gut. Is this father’s intuition? Maybe. Either way, I’m going in.

“I’m counting to three and I’m coming in,” I inform her. “One. Two. Three.” The door creaks as I open it and then my heart drops.

Blood.

There’s blood everywhere.

The floor is covered with bloody tissues and Neena is sitting on the floor, her back leaning against her bed, holding what looks like a balled up shirt that’s stain with more blood.

“Shit,” I gasp as I rush to her and drop to my knees. “What is it?” I ask, my panicked voice scaring even me. “What happened?”

She rolls her eyes. Not the reaction I was expecting. “My nose. It won’t stop bleeding.” I pull the shirt from her face for a moment to find she’s right. Her nose is gushing. “Fuck,” I breathe out. This isn’t good. My stomach is in a knot with worry, but I’m upset too. Why is she hiding in here?

“Princess . . . Why didn’t you call for your mother?”

“Because I just yelled at her,” she whimpers, her eyes welling up. “She’s mad at me.”

“No, she’s not,” I insist gently as I scoop her up in my arms and stand. “Clara!” I yell. I carry Neena out into the hall where Clara meets us. As soon as she sees us, all of her sadness vanishes and she goes into mother/paramedic mode. “How long has it been bleeding, Neena?” she questions.

“Twenty minutes.”

“Is there anything else that’s wrong?” Clara presses her hand to Neena’s forehead.

“My stomach. It hurts.”

Clara looks at me, her gaze riddled with worry. “Get her in the car. I’ll call her doctor and let him know we’re on the way.”



“Because her platelet count is abnormally low, the nosebleeds will be more frequent. She may notice her mouth and gums bleeding. Her stomach swelling is from cells gathering in her liver and spleen, among other areas. She may experience back pain from her kidneys swelling as well,” Dr. Jones explains.

My hands are clutching the armrests. I hate how he’s talking about her . . . so cold. So unfeeling. Clara must sense my tension because she reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing it. Marcus is on the other side of her, inclining in his seat, his expression stoic. He’d met us in the parking lot. I’m glad Neena is resting in one of the exam rooms. The nurse that attended to her seemed nice enough.

“I feel I should warn you, it’s only going to get worse. She’ll begin to experience breathing issues from the swelling of her lymph nodes, along with bruises and joint pain. Her appetite will decrease significantly.” Well isn’t he just a ray of f*cking sunshine? He pauses for a moment, leaning back in his desk chair. “Clara.” He says her name firmly as he gives her a pointed look. Clara meets his stare. “Have you contacted hospice?”

Her face contorts as a wave of sheer sadness hits her. But she doesn’t make a sound. She shakes her head no adamantly. My insides feel full of lead. Just the word hospice depresses me.

His gaze drops for a moment, seemingly disappointed by her answer, before meeting mine. “I would strongly recommend you do this immediately. I know it’s difficult. But you will need hospice. You want someone to be familiar with the family before things get too bad.”