Sharon frowns at Dad, clearly unaware of the talk he and I had the other day. “You’re not going into assisted living, not as long as I’m around,” she declares. “You might need help, but you’re too independent for a nursing home.”
“That’s exactly what I said. See? You’re out numbered, Dad.”
“No,” he says. “I want t-to give y-you more priv—acy. You and R-rhett or whomever y-you might date.”
“Dad.” I close my eyes, hating that he feels this way.
“Move in with me,” Sharon tells him, a little too eagerly for my liking.
“No.” I shake my head.
“Why not?” she challenges. “I’m with him all the time anyway. This way you’ll save some money. You can stop paying me to come over, and I can enjoy my retirement with your father and take care of him at the same time. It’s a win-win.”
“It’s a full-time job,” I remind her.
“Mo, sweetheart, taking care of your father isn’t a job or a chore. I enjoy it the same way I enjoyed taking care of Jack. Sure, it’s a little more work, but I don’t have kids running around anymore or a job to take up my time.”
Dad is watching me, but I can’t decipher his expression.
“Is this what you want?” I ask.
“I want t-to be h-h-happy and enjoy the l-life I have l-left.”
“Jesus, Dad, you make it sound like you’re ancient and dying—which you’re not, by the way. You’re still young and have a lot of years ahead of you.”
“I k-know, and I want t-to enjoy them.”
My mind is spinning right now. For so long, it’s just been the two of us. What will happen if he leaves? He’s been my motivation for the last six years—the reason I get up every morning and work my ass off. What will I do when I don’t have that anymore?
You’ll do all the things you’ve dreamed about.
“You’re not happy here?” I hate to ask the question, but I need to know. “Did I do something wrong? Did I upset you? I know I’m gone all the time but—” I choke on the words, and Dad raises his hand from Sharon’s to place it on mine.
Time and life and stress show on his aged skin, his hands not as thick and powerful as they once were. But they’re still the hands that took care of me, the hands that gave me a good life. Bending down, I kiss his knuckles.
“You did n-nothing wrong, Mo. I couldn’t h-have asked f-for a b-b-better daughter. Now it’s y-your turn t-to be happy and l-l-live your life. I want to g-give you your l-life back.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat, but I’m unable to stop the tears from forming. Squeezing my eyes shut, I feel them on my cheeks as he continues.
“I want you t-to be able t-t-to go out to d-dinner with Rhett without w-worrying about who is g-going to stay with me. I-I want you to go b-back to school, if that’s something you w-want to do. I want you to b-be young, Monroe. Young and h-happy.”
Swiping at the tears, I lower my head to Dad’s shoulder. “We’ll talk about it, okay? If this is what you want, we’ll talk about it. Me, you, and Sharon. We’ll find time to sit down and work things out. But I want you to be sure.” I give Sharon a firm look. “He’s my life, and I need to know you’re ready for this.”
She nods, tears in her eyes, and I can tell from the look on her face that I have my answer. Somewhere along the way, they fell in love, and who am I to judge that or stop it from blossoming?
“Okay.” I kiss both of them on the cheek and stand up. “I’m gonna leave you two alone. I’ll grab my clothes and take a shower at Coop’s. I told Rhett I’d stop by before my shift anyway.”
I walk to my room and collect my uniform and brush, and when I get to the front door, Sharon is waiting on me. As soon as I’m within reach, she pulls me into a hug.
“Thank you,” she
whispers.
Pressing my face against her hair, I breathe in her familiar scent and relax, knowing my dad couldn’t be in a better set of hands.
“For what?” The way I see it, I should be thanking her for making my father happy in a way I can’t.
“For sharing him with me.”