His voice is thready and whisper soft. It’s a far cry from the boisterous boom I grew up with. It’s a role reversal I never saw coming. I’m the caregiver who needs to protect h
im. “I know, Pops,” I say patting his hand.
“Brothers here?” he asks.
I can see him struggling to fend off the meds and regain awareness. “You know they are.”
“Mom and Dad?”
“On their way down from the cabin.”
“How long are you here?”
“As long as I need to be. I mean that,” I reply.
“You ready to commit to that?”
“Pops, you know my loyalty lies with you.”
“Yeah, but this place always sends you running.”
“None of that matters anymore.”
“You telling me you made your peace?” he asks.
His voice is stronger now, and I can see the thoughtfulness in his coffee-colored eyes. I never could lie to him. I glance at the doorway. “I’m saying… I’m trying.”
“That’s something at least.” He breathes heavily.
I tense, ready to press the call button if necessary.
“Go get Stone. I want to talk to him before the meds take me under again.”
“Okay, Pops. I’m going to be here till they kick me out.”
He grunts. “Go home, get settled in. I don’t need you watching me sleep, shit’s creepy.”
I laugh. He must be feeling better. He’s already grumpy and bossing me around. “Yeah, I hear you, Pops. I’ll be back in the morning then.”
He squeezes my hand. “Good to have you here. Just wish it was under better circumstances.”
“Me too.”
He releases my hand, and I walk back to the group warming the waiting room. I spot my Grans and make a beeline for them.
Stone follows me.
“How is he?” my grandfather asks.
“Good, grumpy. You know, usual Pops.”
The tension lines around his eyes ease.
“Oh, thank God,” my grandmother says, holding her hand over her heart.
“They used a medicine to try to clear the clots. They’ll be monitoring him tomorrow and checking on his progress. The doc thinks with a change of lifestyle, he could forgo a pacemaker.”
“Change of lifestyle?” Stone asks. His nostrils flare.