Chapter Fifteen

Dad

Walking into the hospital room is not a pleasant experience.

I hate hospitals. I mean, they’re good, don’t get me wrong. Being in them just bothers me. Nearly every memory I have associated with them is bad. Sure, the birth of my two kids counts as happy memories. Yet, somehow the days where little Anthony was dying in one completely overshadows them. Then, there’s the time I woke up in one after my attack. My first conscious moments as a vampire are painted in hospital green.

Danny told me I might’ve killed someone in a blackout. I don’t remember it, and I try not to think about it. Ugh. I sure hope not.

Klamath only has one hospital. It’s not the most advanced medical center in the world, but Dad’s at the point where nothing’s really going to change his fate. He’s here purely for palliative care until… yeah. Mom’s going to wind up alone and stuck with a huge bill. Well, she’s going to end up alone. I’ll deal with the bill. It’s the least I can do. Pretty sure my parents don’t have a lot of money. I happen to still have a little left. Additionally, some of my latest cases have paid fairly well .

We find him lying in bed. He’s so thin. It’s hard to look at him without wanting to cry. All those years of being angry at him for calling me too stupid for college don’t mean anything now. I should’ve buried the hatchet and talked to him. Kept telling myself that if he made the first effort to reach out, I’d stop holding a grudge. Somewhere along the line, grudge became secrecy for vampire reasons. I went past some invisible line where I couldn’t explain myself not looking older anymore and just chickened out. Avoiding the issue entirely was easier.

If the hospital staff hadn’t told me this was Artie Sundance, I wouldn’t have recognized the fragile creature in this bed. It takes me a few minutes of watching him breathe, studying his face, to reconcile what my eyes are telling me with my memory. If I didn’t have Anthony and Tammy here to squeeze, I’d probably have looked for an excuse to back out of the room and hide. This can’t be my father. This ninety-pound skeleton isn’t the same man who barked at me about going to college.

I hate myself for staying away so long. Dammit. Understanding (sorta) what happened to Mom changes so much about the past. Dad freaking out about me going to college might not have been his thinking girls weren’t smart enough for school. What if he was simply terrified of being alone? He didn’t want me to go away. He wanted me to stay and help. I think.

When we arrived a few minutes ago, I think we caught him sleeping. Or he’s on some serious painkillers.

Dusk leads Mom around to sit in the chair beside the bed. Mary Lou takes the other chair in the room. Ruby Grace sits cross-legged on the floor in the corner, still reading her tablet.

“Carolyn?” asks Dad in a weak voice that’s more whisper than anything.

“Mom’s right here.” Dusk guides Mom’s hand over to Dad’s .

Silence hangs for a moment before Dad gives a disappointed sigh. “Where’s Carolyn?”

Dusk and River exchange a glance that says they think Dad’s losing his mind. Clayton simply stares at the floor looking every bit as uncomfortable and awkward as I feel. I’m sure he would rather be anywhere but here… but we stay because, yeah. I’d hate myself more for running away now.

“When’s Carolyn going to be here?” asks Dad.

Mom (Carolyn) doesn’t react.

My brothers give him pitying looks. Dusk continues to try reassuring Dad that our mom is right next to him, holding his hand. It’s falling on deaf ears, though. Part of me wonders if Dad’s seeming incoherence is deeper than it looks. Does he somehow understand that she’s actually ‘gone’? That her soul is somehow missing? In a sense, Mom isn’t really here. Her body might be, but she is not.

After another couple of minutes of Dusk trying to convince our father that Mom is, in fact, here, Dad makes this ‘yeah, okay, whatever’ face at him and looks up at the ceiling. At that point, he appears to realize the room is full of people. The strangest thing happens. He just starts randomly talking to us like it hasn’t been fourteen years or more since any of us have been in this part of California.

Mary Lou has been a bit more dutiful than me. She’s taken her kids out to visit more than once. I want to say the last time they were out here, Ruby Grace was about twelve… which would be four years ago. Dad recognizes the grandkids without too much difficulty. He mistakes Anthony for Danny. When his attention finally goes in my direction, he gets this little sparkle in his eye.

“Sammie.” He chuckles dryly. “You look great. You go vegan?”

An argument could be made that a vampire who hated drinking blood counts as a vegan in some way. More so now that I’ ve left that whole cycle behind. Feeding on psychic energy hurts no one. So yeah, I suppose I am a vegan in technicality.

“Kinda,” I say. “I’m on a new diet now. Not so much protein.”

“Come here, Sammie.” Dad reaches for me.

I walk closer to the bed and take his hand. He feels so brittle now. “Hi, Dad.”

“Glad you showed up before I checked out.” He coughs, almost hard enough that the oxygen tube in his nose comes flying out. “Wasn’t sure if you would.”

“Sorry. I…” I look down. “Should’ve visited you before. Things got complicated.”

“I don’t blame you.” He reaches up with his left hand to adjust the oxygen hose. “I wasn’t the best dad. Sorry I didn’t do a better job.”

“You were hardly a bad dad,” I say to the mattress beside him. “Just a bit… umm…”

“Neglectful at times,” says Mary Lou in a flat, nonjudgmental tone.

Dad wheezes a chuckle. “Yeah, that’s about right. I gave in to my demons and hid in a bag of weed. Sometimes, my memory is just a blur of baseball games and rattling around the house.”

I don’t know what to say. All the anger I’d felt for him over the years is gone. In its place is something made of pity and guilt.

He starts crying. “I don’t really have too many memories of my family. Was so afraid of messing things up I just… ran away from you all.”

River, Clayton, and Dusk rush over to the bed at the same time. We all reassure Dad that he did what he could. He worked his ass off, even if that meant being away for months at a time. Paradoxically, Mary Lou is the one being standoffish now. She’s absolutely entitled to feel resentful for the parents dumping their duties on her when she was still a child herself. My sister probably thinks I’m weak for caving in to guilt and not being angrier with Dad.

Pops mumbles apologies to the boys for being gone so much, then looks at me. “Sammie, you know that argument we had?”

It’s tempting to say I barely remember it, but it feels wrong to lie to him. “Yeah. I do. Look, Dad. I’ve been mad at you for a long time for that. And, umm…” I glance at Mom. “I just recently started thinking you might have been dealing with more than just the idea that girls are too stupid for college.”

Ruby Grace looks up from her tablet at last to give me a quizzical stare. A brilliant girl, she’s going to ask me to explain this later tonight, I bet.

“I didn’t mean any of that.” Dad stares down at his chest, where wiry grayish hairs poke out the neck of his ill-fitting hospital smock. “You were the last one left. Sadly, I tried to convince you to stay, and I ended up driving you off even faster. I’m sorry, sweetie. I never meant to say you were stupid or not worth getting yourself an education. I’m just a stupid old man stuck in his stupid old ways, and I was afraid of being alone.”

Now I’m crying, too. “I get it, Dad. Took me too long to figure things out, but I understand. I was a hot-headed teenager who thought she knew better than her old man.”

“You did.” He gives a weak laugh. “You got yourself educated. Gave your kids a good life. Better’n I could figure out how to do with you lot.”

“Dad, you did just fine,” says River. “Sometimes a father’s gotta do things that keep them away. I understand.”

“Says the guy working in freakin’ Alaska.” Clayton chuckles.

Dad and River share a knowing, long stare. Two men who both worked jobs that pulled them far away from their family.

“That’s a hike.” Dad exhales, then looks at Mary Lou. “Wasn’t fair to you, most of all.”

My sister looks down. “It’s water under the bridge. I’d do it again. That’s what family does. You had to work. Mom had her… peculiarities. Someone had to take care of the kids. I’m not angry with you.”

Hearing that seems to make Dad feel better. A sense of relief spreads across his face. I don’t think my sister is really resentful toward them as much as she’s generally annoyed at fate for how things went.

I squeeze his hand. “Sorry I didn’t come by to see you guys.”

Dad mutters something not quite intelligible. His facial expression makes me think he’s trying to say something about how it’s his fault, too.

“Is Carolyn going to visit me before I’m out of time?” asks Dad.

Dusk gestures at Mom with both hands like a game show hostess showing off a prize. “She’s right here, Dad.”

Mom continues to stare into the ninth dimension. Dad shakes his head, literally looking right through her.

What in God’s name is going on?