16. Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

Ella

Visiting Sweet and Salty was a good idea, because Rose's soup is the best medicine anyone could ask for. But Silas' mother is here and she won't stop smiling at me. I've always liked her, even before Silas and I dated, but now she looks at me like she's planning my wedding along with Vivien's. And maybe Emma's. Honestly, in terms of mothers-in-law, I could definitely do worse. Audrey Thomas is probably every girl's dream mother-in-law, and her husband, Brenner, isn't so bad either.

After serving her last customer, Mrs. Thomas crosses the café and heads to the corner table where Silas sinks into the booth seat.

"Here she comes. She's going to hug you and embarrass me." Silas pulls the brim of his hat deeper over his face, but it doesn't hide his blush. He can deny it all he wants, but I already know he's a mama's boy. It's adorable in so many ways.

"Ella, it's so good to see you. How are you feeling?" Mrs. Thomas leans down and wraps me in a warm hug.

"Much better with this," I say, holding up my spoon when she releases me. "I'm sorry I caused Silas to miss family time last night."

She grins ear to ear like she knows something more than I do. "Oh, it's okay. I'd rather he take care of you. Will you be able to come to our New Year's party tonight? It'll be spectacular."

I hadn't thought much about it, but I couldn't say. I felt much better, but the idea of dressing up and mingling makes my stomach churn. Silas picks up on my hesitation and gives me some wiggle room.

"We'll see how she feels, but it's only been a couple of days. She wouldn't want to get everyone else sick, right?" His mischievous grin immediately makes me remember our kissing at his townhouse. There's no chance he doesn't get sick from that, but his little smirk makes me want to kiss him again.

"Right," I say, fighting an eye roll. "I'll do my best to make an appearance."

She pats my back and smiles again. "No worries if you can't make it. We completely understand. Feel better soon, sweetheart," she says before turning her attention to her rowdy son. "Silas, can I speak to you?"

Silas gets a deer-in-the-headlights look before sliding from the booth and following his mother a few feet away. She goes in for a hug and whispers something in his ear. Silas stiffens and pulls back before saying, "How do you know that?"

Mrs. Thomas pats his cheek and shakes her head. "Because I'm your mother and I can see becoming an accountant would kill your spirit. You need to talk to your father."

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to that," Silas says.

"Honey, he's your father. He loves you. He'll understand if you don't want to do the same thing he does for the rest of your life. Trust him and talk to him, okay?"

Silas' shoulders relax and he hugs his mother before settling back into the booth with me. I instinctively wrap my arm around his waist and lean into him. He lifts his arm so I can snuggle closer and tucks me in tightly. "I guess I need to talk to my father today. I'll do it after I drop you off, but I wish Pastor Scott would call me back before that. I don't like waiting to see what he has in mind."

"Whatever it is, it'll be okay, Silas. I love you, and we'll figure it out together." My phone rings as I'm completing my sentence, so I don't have a chance to kiss him like I want to. He's still worried about his future, what might become our future, but I have confidence that God will lead him to something that is perfect for him, the same way He led us back together.

I dig for my phone and pull it out. "Oh, it's Abbie. She's probably annoyed with me for not coming home last night. One second," I say and prepare for the onslaught. "Hey, Abs, what's up?"

"Hey, how are you feeling?" she asks. "Silas messaged me last night and said you crashed."

I glance at Silas who's fidgeting with a napkin. "He did?"

"Yeah, after you fell asleep on the sofa. You didn't answer me though. How are you feeling?"

"Better, actually. I overdid it yesterday. I'm sorry I didn't make it home. Is everything okay?"

Abbie sighs and in the background, the steady sound of chopping tells me she's cooking again. She does that when she's stressed. "Yeah, I think so. I'm not sure. Dad is pretty lucid today, and he asked me to call you. He wants a family meeting."

"A family meeting? Are you sure he's okay? We haven't had one of those since Corinna's diagnosis."

"That's what's got me worried. He has a stack of paperwork and pamphlets he won't let me look at until you get home. Can you be here soon?"

I glance at Silas again, knowing we still have a lot of talking to do and things to work out, but my family needs me. "Yeah, I'll see if Silas can drop me off. My car is still at the Baker farm."

Silas nods and wraps his arm around my shoulders.

"He says yes. I'll be there as soon as I can. Love you."

"Love you, too, Ella. Be safe." She hangs up the phone and Silas squeezes my shoulders.

"Want me to take you to get your car first or take you right home?" He drops a sweet kiss on my temple before sliding out of the booth.

"The farm is out of the way. If you don't think Baker will mind it being there, I'll get it later. Abbie said Dad wants to meet with us and he has a stack of paperwork or something. Who knows, but it seemed urgent."

"Nah, he won't mind. I'll message him after I drop you off." Silas helps me get my coat on, waves to Rose, and opens the door for me. I want to ask him to stay for the meeting because something tells me whatever Dad wants to tell us is probably important, at least to him, and I'd like the support. But I don't ask because Abbie needs me, and this might be something we need to do together. Warning bells blare in my mind, so the whole ride home I stare out the window and try to unravel what I might be about to walk into.

Silas lets me have the silence, only reaching across the seat to squeeze my hand once. I offer him a smile and stretch across to kiss his cheek, then go back to staring out the window. When we arrive, Silas helps me out and slinks his arms around my waist.

"If you need me, you know you can call me right?" he asks.

I nod and let my head fall against his chest. "I know. I can't help worrying this is about to be a big deal, but I want to support Abbie. I'll call you after, okay?"

He brushes my hair back and kisses my forehead. "Yeah, of course. I love you, Ells."

"I love you, too," I say, gaining a bit of strength from his wide, bright smile.

"I will never get sick of hearing that, just so you know. Come on. I'll walk you to the door."

Silas gives me a sweet kiss on the cheek and leaves me at my front door. There is probably no way to prepare myself for what's to come, which might be nothing at all. Still, I can't shake the foreboding sensation that settles over me when I turn the handle and head inside.

Abbie is in the kitchen chopping vegetables. Beside her is a massive vat of water on the stove, and I realize she's in stock mode. She'll make vegetable, chicken, and beef stock all day long if I let her. I never understood why, but batching meals is her go-to for stress relief. For me, cooking is a necessity but not something that brings me joy or relaxation. In fact, it mostly gives me indigestion since I'm not great at it.

"Hey, Abs." I manage to snatch a carrot piece before she dumps it into the pot.

Abbie leans in for a side hug and wipes her hands on a towel. "Let me get Dad. I'm freaking out about what he wants to discuss. He's being so weird about it."

Nodding, I pull out a kitchen chair and take a moment to pray for guidance. With my father, we could be facing anything. His lucid moments are fewer these days, which breaks my heart. He's too young to have such a diagnosis, and if I worry about it for too long, anger sets in. He lost both wives, struggled to raise two daughters—though he did a pretty good job, all things considered—and now he will lose his memories and faculties as this disease destroys what is left of his life.

Abbie returns to the kitchen and sits beside me, Dad following her. He has that stack of papers and pamphlets she talked about, but the most I can see is a photo of a large brick building with a garden.

Dad leans down to kiss my head before sitting across from us. With a weak smile, he glances between us.

"First, I want you both to know that right now I am of completely clear mind. I might not remember where I left my glasses, but what we are about to discuss I have thought about every single second of clear thought that I've had."

Abbie glances at me and says, "Okay. What is it, Dad?"

He crosses his hands over top of his stack and falls into I mean business mode. "Despite our many setbacks, you two are the pride and joy of my life. Losing your mother and Corinna was hard, but you two always made life better for me. I was able to put away a sizeable savings for you both for college, but also for retirement and emergencies."

"Dad, if this is about me going to college—"

"Abbie, wait," Dad says, raising a hand to quiet her. "Let me finish. Yes, in some ways this is about you going to college. Or not. It's up to you what you do with the money I set aside for schooling. If you want to go to college, go. If not, use it for what you need to start your own business, go to trade school, whatever you want."

I shake my head. "I don't understand. What is this meeting about then? What is that stack of papers?"

He finally picks up the pamphlets and hands us each one. "I've decided I want to live here. It's a type of assisted living community that's focused on issues like mine."

"Absolutely not," Abbie says, shoving the pamphlet back towards our father.

"Abbie Marshall, I might be losing my mind but I'm still your father. I've thought about this for a long time. I know my girls, and I know you won't leave me there to waste away. You'll visit, bring your families, and spend real time with me. You'll pick me up for holidays and family outings, and that's why I settled on this place."

"I don't want you in a home, Dad," Abbie says.

I try to look at the paper he gave me, but it makes me sick to even consider my father in a nursing home.

"It isn't what you think. I will have my own apartment style home, and the nursing care is phenomenal. I've been on the waiting list since I first received my diagnosis. They have an opening for me, and I can move in as early as February."

"But, Dad," I begin, but he isn't finished making his pitch.

"Look at the brochures, girls. See," he says, opening mine so I'll look inside. "They have organized events like sports, game nights, movie nights. Family is welcome to attend the events, and they even allow overnight visits. It's my own apartment, but it's safe and the nursing staff is delightful. I'll have around the clock care, get to live on my own terms, and most importantly, my girls will have their own lives."

I frown. I know what he's trying to do. "Dad, I told Abbie that I wanted to transfer to a local school to help her. She'll be able to start classes if she wants. I want us to keep being a family, the three of us."

Dad smiles and takes my hands. "Ella bear, we will always be a family, but I don't want it to be just the three of us. I want you to have lives, get married, have kids. And I need you to know this isn't just about you two. I want to maintain some dignity through this process, and having my children wiping my mouth for me is not what I want, okay?"

"Daddy," Abbie says, choking on a sob.

"It isn't goodbye, munchkin. It's growing up. It's normal. We can live apart and still make wonderful memories."

"How is it even safe?" Abbie asks, working another angle.

"There is a refrigerator but no microwave or stove. I order what meals I want, and they are brought on a schedule. The fridge and cabinets have snacks, so I won't feel helpless."

"What about the shower? You could—"

Dad raises his hands again. "It's all arranged, Abbie. They have thought of every possible issue, and when I'm not able to live on my own, they will move me to a more community oriented facility."

"Yeah, a nursing home," I say. My jaw tightens with sadness that threatens to turn into a bout of ugly crying at any moment.

"No, still not like that. They still have a loving community and family involvement all of the time."

"I'm your power of attorney, Dad. I haven't even looked at the place yet."

"I am aware, darling. And when I turned everything over to you, it was because I trust my daughters to do what is best for me. I am telling you that this is what I want, and what will make me happy. I get bored sitting around here, and this way we can all have lives that will make us happy."

Abbie scowls, and I can almost read her mind. "He didn't mean it like that Abs."

Dad glances between us and realizes what he said. "Of course not. I enjoy every minute with you both, but I need more than watching television when you're busy cooking or cleaning. I want to play golf and choose my own curtains. I'd like to have conversations with other men who are in similar situations. They'll let you pick me up whenever you want, so Sunday morning church can be a regular thing again. Family dinners, outings, whatever you want."

Abbie sighs and my heart drops a little. We can't be selfish with him. He's choosing this out of love for his daughters, but also because he wants to enjoy what life he has left before the dementia makes it too difficult.

I share a long, meaningful but silent stare with my sister. Eventually, she gives me a little nod. With a deep sigh, she agrees. "Okay, but I want to tour this place first."

"I expected so. We can see it next week after the holidays have passed." Dad smiles with true joy and sits back in his chair. "Now, about this stock making hobby of yours."

Abbie chuckles and rolls her eyes. "I like soup, okay?"

"Oh, I'm not complaining. I have a request. I'm going to need a big vat of beef stew, because I've been craving it for weeks. I keep forgetting what I want before I can tell you." Dad laughs through the pain of it if only for our benefit, so Abbie promises to make it for dinner.

I remember Mrs. Thomas invited me to her New Year's party, but I realize that I want to be here with my sister and my father and have one last holiday together in our family home before everything changes. Silas will understand, and my heart flutters, wondering what life has in store for us as we all embark on new adventures.

Dad stands and stretches, then wanders into the living room to watch a game. Abbie wipes her forehead and groans.

"I had a feeling that's what it was going to be about. Are you okay with this?" she asks, settling her hand over mine.

I lean back into my chair and really look at my sister. She's exhausted. She needs a break, and I want for her the same things my father wants. "Yeah. I wasn't at first but it seems like it'll make him really happy. I'm still moving closer though. I want to be here with you and him."

She chuckles. "And Silas."

My cheeks burn at the thought that Silas has pulled me in again almost as fast as he did the first time. And I love him. Gosh, how much I love the man who seems to understand me without me laying it all out for him. He's not perfect. He still makes messes, but he puts in the work to clean them up. He cares for me. Loves me.

"Yeah, and Silas. I want to be home," I admit.

Abbie pats my hand and pulls out an extra apron from the cabinet. "Good. You can learn to make soup."

The kitchen fills with laughter as I let my sister teach me how to cook our father's favorite meal. There's a lot of healing, especially of wounds I'd forgotten I had. They were hidden beneath the surface, but never fully healed. Mom messed up, leaving Dad to pick up the pieces. Shortly after, he met Corinna and we fell into a happy family again. And she died, destroying any hope Abbie and I had of having a mother figure in our lives. Silas left, but he's back. He's changed in the ways that were necessary, and so have I.

For the first time in my life, I'm healing. I'm moving forward instead of running away, and it's exciting.