He looked small, a big man who’d been whittled down to fit in a child’s bed.
“Nina. ” His voice was so soft and breathy she hardly recognized it. His skin was frighteningly pale.
She forced herself to smile, hoping it looked real. Her father was a man who valued laughter and joy. She knew it would hurt him to see her in pain.
“Hey, Daddy. ” The little-girl word slipped out; she hadn’t said it in years.
He knew; he knew and he smiled. It was a faded, tired version of his smile and Nina reached down to wipe the spittle from his lip. “I love you, Daddy. ”
“I want . . . ” He was breathing hard now. “Go . . . home. ”
She had to lean close to hear his quietly spoken words. “You can’t go home, Dad. They’re taking good care of you here. ”
He reached for her hand, holding it tightly. “Die home. ”
This time she couldn’t will her tears away. She felt them streak down her face and land in tiny gray petals on the white blanket. “Don’t . . . ”
He stared up at her, still breathing hard; she saw the light go out of his eyes and the weakening of his will, and that hurt more than words had.
“It won’t be easy,” she said. “You know Meredith likes everything in its place. She’ll want you here. ”
The smile he gave her was so sad and sloppy it broke her heart. “You . . . hate easy. ”
“I do,” she said quietly, stung by the sudden thought that without him, no one would know her that well.
He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. For a second, Nina thought she’d lost him, that he’d simply fallen away from her and sunk into the darkness, but this time the machines soothed her. He was still breathing.
She sank into the chair beside him, knowing why he’d asked this favor of her. Mom could do it, of course, could force his move home, but Meredith would hate her mother for it. Dad had spent his life trying to create love where none existed—between his wife and his daughters—and he couldn’t give up even now. All he could do was hand his need to her and hope she could accomplish what he wanted. She remembered how often he’d called her his rule-breaker, his spitfire, and how proud he’d been of her courage to go into battle.
Of course she would do as he’d asked. It was perhaps the last thing he’d ask of her.
That night, after the arrangements had been made to have Dad discharged, Nina went out to her rental car. She sat there a long time, alone in the dark parking lot, trying to let go of the fight she and Meredith had had about moving Dad. Nina had won, but it hadn’t been easy. Finally, with a tired sigh, she started the engine and drove away from the hospital. Snow patterned her windshield, disappearing and reappearing with each swipe of the wiper blades. Even with limited visibility, her first view of Belye Nochi made her breath catch.
The house looked as beautiful and out of place as ever in its snowy valley, tucked as it was in a vee of land between the river and the hills. Christmas lights made it even more beautiful, almost magical.
It had always reminded her of the fairy tales they’d once been told, full of dangerous magic and handsome princes and dragons. In short, it reminded her of her mother.
On the porch, she stomped the snow off her leather hiking boots and opened the door. The entry was cluttered with coats and boots. The kitchen counters were a graveyard of coffee cups and empty plates. Her mother’s precious brass samovar glinted in the light from an overhead fixture.
She found Meredith in the living room, all alone, staring at the fireplace.
Nina could see how fragile her sister was right now. Her photographer’s eye noticed every tiny detail: the trembling hands, the tired eyes, the stiff back.
She reached out and pulled her sister into a hug.
“What will we be without him?” Meredith whispered, clinging to her.
“Less,” was all Nina could think of to say.
Meredith wiped her eyes, straightening suddenly, pulling away as if she’d just realized that she’d gone weak for a moment. “I’ll stay the night. Just in case Mom needs something. ”
“I’ll take care of her. ”
“You?”
“Yes. We’ll be fine. Go make wild, crazy love to that sexy man of yours. ”
Meredith frowned at that, as if perhaps the idea of pleasure were impossible to contemplate. “You sure you’ll be okay?”