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“That’s not what I meant.” Jim picked up his keys. “I promise

I’ll make more of an effort, but right now I have to go.” He kissed me and walked toward the door, then paused. “Did you want to come with us?” he asked hesitantly, not making eye contact.

“Not in a million years.” As much as I hated being alone on a Sunday, I would’ve hated going to the shooting range even more.

“I’ll be home right before dinner. I have to see a couple of patients later this afternoon.”

“You’re seeing people on a Sunday?”

“They can’t come in during the week. I’m not happy about it either.”

A short time later, I was walking out of the dry cleaner’s loaded down with five white shirts, three ties in various shades of red, and three black suits. I was thinking how I had to find something better to do on a Sunday than go to the dry cleaner’s, when I noticed a man in a New York Yankees baseball cap walking toward me. He was around thirty and attractive in a boyish, not quite adult way. As he got closer, my heart began to race. He was smiling. Was he smiling at me? Should I smile back? Why was my heart racing? What should I say if he talked to me? My heart was about to jump out of my chest when he got closer and closer and … walked right by me.I’m an idiot.Why would I ever think a man in his thirties would be smiling at me like that? I sat in my car, embarrassed by my reaction to a cute guy who didn’t even notice me. I decided to go see my dad. At least he’d notice me.

When I got to Dad’s room, I crept up behind his wheelchair and kissed him on the cheek. “That better be my daughter, or the nurses are getting fresh around here,” he said.

“Hi, Dad.” My knees cracked loudly when I bent down next to him. I was only forty-five. Would they snap off when I hit fifty? “What’s with the wheelchair?” I asked. Even though it had been nine months, whenever I came here, I’d try to convince myself that he was fine and he’d go home soon. This denial had mostly worked, but seeing him in a wheelchair was not making it easy.

“I’ve been a little shakier today, so the nurse brought this in.” He began to cough, a cough that was deep and throaty. I waited until he finished.

“Your cough sounds worse,” I said.

“It comes and goes. Nothing major. The doctor said I’m fine. What’re you doing here on a Sunday?”

“Jim went to the firing range with Sam.”

“There has to be something more fun than coming here.”

“I love seeing you,” I said.

I suggested we go to the sunroom, because even though it was cold out and the clouds were blocking the sun, the room had a nicer view than my dad’s. I pushed Dad over to a table and sat down on the chair next to him. The table was bare except for a white tablecloth and a flower arrangement of dried purple and pink hydrangeas in the center. A woman and her adult son were sitting at a table across from us. He was using sign language to communicate with her, so it was quiet except for the sound of Frank Sinatra singing in the background. I was never able to hear “My Way” without singing along in my head, so I was distracted until I realized that Dad had been talking to me.

“Your mother told me you don’t like Gia’s new boyfriend,” he repeated. I could only imagine what kind of spin she’d put on this information. She probably told him I was being crazy.

“I don’t know him, but from what Gia’s told me, he sounds selfish.”

“Isn’t that the age?” he asked.

“I guess.”

“I didn’t like some of your choices when you were seventeen, but I had faith you’d figure it out. Gia will too.”

“So, you think I’m overreacting?”

“I think you’re an amazing mother, and she’s lucky to have you.” Hearing him say that brought tears to my eyes, which was an appropriate response, but then I started sobbing, snot running out of my nose, the whole nine yards. Nothing about that was appropriate. I put a hand over my mouth to contain the noise I was making but then realized the woman at the table couldn’t hear me anyway, although her son looked at us. Their hand signals to each other suddenly got more rapid and frenetic, then stopped completely. He helped her up and took her arm, and they slowly walked out of the room.

I was trying to catch my breath, although the tears were still coming. Dad took my hand. “This isn’t about Gia’s boyfriend, is it?” he asked with such caring in his voice that it made me cry harder.

“I can’t tell you my stupid problems when you’re stuck in here.”

“I’d be stuck here whether you told me your problems or not.” He opened his arms for a hug, and I got up from the table and melted into him. I stayed in his warm embrace until I completely stopped crying.

When I raised my head from his chest, I saw my mascara had left a large black stain. “I can’t believe I messed up your shirt,” I said.

“Everyone here is half-blind, so they’ll never notice.” I tried to clean his shirt with my fingers, but I was only making it worse. “Don’t worry about the shirt. Tell me why you’re so upset.”

I sat back down on the chair. “It’s everything. Gia’s going to be leaving for school in the fall, and I already miss her. And Jim’s avoiding being alone with me. I think I bore him now.”

“You’re far from boring.”