CHAPTER EIGHT
Nathaniel
The hospital stood bright against the skyline, a halo of light surrounding the edges of the building as I approached. Though I’d arrived in Athens two days ago, I hadn’t had the strength to visit Elsie. She had worsened since I’d got into town.
That meant time was running out.
When I got into the lobby, my heart rate rose, carrying me to the elevator. She was on the eighth floor. I just had to locate her room and then…
And then, what?
Elsie and I hadn’t spoken for almost twelve years, before that night in the bar. The last time she attempted to contact me about Julia was after Julia was born. I received a photograph every year since then with no accompanying letter. Just a series of photographs.
That’s all my daughter had been to me for years. But that would change tonight. I would make sure of it.
The elevator took me to the eighth floor and I sought out Room 806, lingering in the doorway for a moment as I observed the scene inside. My phone buzzed in my pocket, but I ignored it. This was much more important.
A little girl of twelve with auburn brown hair tied into pigtails held a sketchbook on her lap. Charcoal stained her fingers. Her tongue poked out on the edge of her lips in concentration as her hand swept across the page. Despite the messy nature of charcoal, the page was free of smudges.
She was talented, my daughter. I wanted to know more about her.
I raised my fist to knock, but I paused and Julia looked up. Round, curious eyes met mine, the color of hazel-brown with drops of gold honey. For a split second, her eyes flashed.
Eyeshine—just like a feline. She truly was her mother’s daughter.
When she stood up, she set the sketchbook aside and beckoned me into the room, her movements calculated and reverent. I wandered inside and turned to the bed that hosted a frail Elsie, who seemed to have shriveled up in a matter of days. It wouldn’t be long now.
At first glance, I could already tell her health was deteriorating rapidly. I sidled up to the left side of the bed and did a vitals check, examined her eyes, listened to her breathing.
“She won’t make it, you know,” Julia said, her voice as frail as her mother looked. “Dr Johnson said so.”
“I can see that.”
“You’re Nathaniel Thornton.”
I glanced at her, hurt in my gaze even as I tried to control it. “I am.”
“You’re my father.”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
She nodded once, curtly, and lifted her sketchbook, extending it to me. “Mother gave me a picture of you every year. I thought if I drew you, I could know you.”
“Has it worked?” I asked, accepting the sketchbook.
She shook her head. “Not quite.”
“You’re a sharp kid.”
“I know things.”
I chortled as I studied the sketch she had been working on. The likeness to me was astounding. Even the scowl was spot on. “This is . . . incredible.”
“Mother says you’re stubborn and grumpy as an ass.”
“Does your mother let you speak that way?”
She shrugged. “How else should I speak?”
“Like a child, I suppose.”
“I’m twelve. I’m not exactly a child anymore.”
I tightened my lips together, biting back a quip. She was so much more like me than I had anticipated. Sassy, strong, and set in her ways. “I suppose that’s partially true.”
“All my teachers have recognized my intellect as being much higher than my peers.”
“You speak like a dictionary.”
She grinned wide, the cat in her evident in her smile. “I read the dictionary.”
“Just like me.”
“You read dictionaries?”
I shook my head. “Medical manuals, journals, safe practices—they’re like dictionaries, but for doctors.”
“Mother said you practice medicine. Can you help her?”
“I’m afraid I can’t.”
A scowl stole her features, that innocent little girl turning into a petulant child in a matter of seconds. “Then, what good is your presence here?”
“Julia, I’m here because your mother is dying and you need somewhere to go.”
“I can take care of myself, you know.”
I raised my eyebrows. “I don’t doubt that. Elsie was a resourceful woman.”
“I’m still here, you know,” Elsie spoke softly. She was weak, and when I turned to her, I noticed how faded her eyes were. “You don’t have to speak of me in past tense . . . yet.”
A cough wracked her body. I set the sketchbook aside and grabbed a plastic cup of water from the bedside table. I held it to her lips, allowing her to sip at her pace until she was satisfied.
She waved the cup away. “Julia, you’re going with your father. That’s final.”
“I don’t want to leave you.”
“Darling, you’re not leaving me. It’s me who is leaving you.”
Julia darted to the right side of the bed and dropped onto the mattress, movements sharp and quiet. So much like a feline. Yet as angry as a dragon.
She held her mother’s hand. “Please…”
“I can’t change time. Nathaniel will care for you.”
“I don’t want to go.”
Elsie smiled weakly, another cough taking over. I rested my hand gently on Julia’s shoulder, surprised when Julia didn’t pull away.
Everything was falling apart for her. I couldn’t even imagine what she was feeling. But I could guess. And what I could guess was that she had yet to accept her mother’s impending doom.
“I’ll always be in your heart,” Elsie explained, even weaker than before. “I’m going . . . to…”
I squeezed Julia’s shoulder. “Let your mother rest. She’s tired.”