Swear (Landry Family 4)

My heart sinks in my chest. I figured this conversation may happen, but I guess it’s going to happen sooner than later. “I apologize for that, sir. Trust me when I say it’s eaten at me all these years.”

“I bet it has.”

“I wish I would’ve handled things differently.”

“You were young and dumb. But I suspect you aren’t either one these days.”

“I’m sure as hell not young,” I laugh. “I hope I’m not dumb.”

He tips his head my way. “You’re sitting here. That tells me you aren’t too stupid.” He goes back to his television show for a while. “You know, when you first came around a long time ago, I wasn’t sold on you. You drove up in that fancy truck of yours, dressed up and talking all smooth. I didn’t figure your intentions were very good.”

“I remember that,” I chuckle. “You made things hard for a while before you really gave me a chance.”

“I only gave you a chance because of Gloria,” he admits. “She always was a sucker for a good-looking man. That’s how she got me, after all.”

We enjoy a good laugh. He grabs the remote and turns down the volume.

“I miss her,” he says softly. “Every morning I wake up and listen for her piddling around.”

My chest tightens as I watch the pain haunting his eyes. I can relate, in my own way, because that’s how I feel about Ellie. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if I was with her for decades and then lost her.

He looks at me with a sobriety that catches me off guard. “She was a good judge of character. And she liked you, Ford.”

“I liked her too, Mr. Pagan.”

He lets my address slip, his mind focused on something else. In a movement so unlike him that it makes me flinch, he reaches across the table and lays his hand on top of mine.

“You’re going to be around awhile this time?” he asks.

“That’s the plan,” I breathe, unsure as to what he’s getting at. “Why are you asking me that?”

He pulls his hand away, a resolution in his eyes. “You leaving the first time is probably the only reason I’m still around.”

“What are you talking about?”

“In a really short time,” he says, the words clearly burning, “you left Ellie. Then her mother got sick and left us both. I’m all she has now.”

He looks away, gathering his courage and pride. I lean back, giving him space in every sense of the word. I try to put two and two together, but can’t. My head is spinning.

“The doctors say the cancer is back,” he says, clearing his throat. “I haven’t told Ellie and I’m not going to.”

“But Bill—”

He shakes his head adamantly. “She’s happy. She’s got the store now and things going her way,” he sighs. “I’m tired. I don’t want to go through all that nonsense again. And I don’t want her thinking she should’ve pushed me to do it or feeling guilty about it in any way. I don’t want her over here, wasting her time, doting on me like I know she would.”

“Isn’t that her choice?”

“No,” he barks. “It’s mine.” He gives me a look, one that makes me back down. “I asked the doctor if the medicine would work and he said probably not. It’s stage four and I’m old and that’s that.”

“I’m really sorry,” I say, feeling like a complete idiot. I should have something better to say, but I wasn’t expecting this. Not by a long shot. “Can I do anything to help you?”

“I just . . .” He clears his throat again. “I need to know Ellie will be okay. That’s all that matters, and it’s the one thing I can’t guarantee.”

He forces a swallow, trying to drown the emotion that’s thick in his gruff voice. We don’t look at one another because I’m not sure which of us would break first.

I know what he’s asking me and I can’t imagine the balls it takes to ask this of anyone, much less of me. The guy that walked out on her once.

“I sit here day after day with no one to talk to,” he says quietly. “I’ve let everything go. My friends stopped coming by. Hell, I don’t even go after my mail anymore. They bring it to the porch like I’m some kind of invalid.” Tears dot the old bad-ass’s eyes and it causes mine to water. “I just sit here and wonder what will happen to her when I’m gone. Because she’s . . .” He chokes back a sob.