Page 81

“So, you’d rather not be here? You want to leave me with no parents instead of one?” My voice cracks again, and I choke on a sob as the area behind my eyes heats. “I don’t know what I ever did to make you hate me. What I really did. Not some messed-up version of what happened in your head. I’m sorry she died, okay? I’m so sorry. But you had me. And you had her parents’ help, but instead, you locked us away in that house and decided the both of us were going to rot there, just like everything else.
“But I’m not rotting beside you anymore. I have people I need to fight for, and I want you to fight, too.”
Dad’s hand lashes out, knocking into the tray that holds the TV remote. It upends, sending its contents flying. “You don’t think I’ve wanted to? You don’t think I sit in front of that TV every day and wish things were different? I can’t do anything anymore. I can barely walk.”
“Then fix it!” I brush angry tears off my cheeks. “You told me my whole life I killed Mom when you know damn well I never did anything. You’ve been killing yourself since I was a little girl, and you don’t take any responsibility for it. Well, I’m done letting you get away with it. I’m done.”
The nurse runs into the room. She takes me in first, then Dad, and finally the upended tray. She pats my arm on the way through and rights the tray.
“I didn’t want to live without her,” my dad says, sobs coming now. I wait, eyeing him, wondering if they’re real or not.
They seem different this time. Louder, uncontrollable.
“I wish I could feel sorry for you.” I lift my chin to make sure I don’t waver. “But in your grief, you made me miserable. You cared about yourself more than me, and I think we both know what Mom would’ve thought about that.”
His cries turn to wails. The nurse grabs my shoulders and leads me from the room. I feel stiff, empty. She takes me to an unused room and sits me down in the chair next to the bed. “I’ll get you some water, sweetheart. That was incredibly brave.”
The dam breaks, and I heave out ragged breaths. “I do feel bad for him,” I manage to get out.
“He knows. We all know. He needs someone to give him some truths right now, and you’re the person to do it. I know it’s difficult.” She wraps her arms around me. I cry into her shoulder. “Shh. His sickness is a tough one. Deep down, he loves you very much, but he’s addicted to food. It’s serious. It’s hard. Unlike drugs, he physically needs it to survive. He can’t go cold turkey. He can’t forget about it because it’s constantly there. Commercials. Outside our door. In our house. Being eaten by other people. They feed his cravings. It’s going to take some work and dedication to fight this. You just have to keep giving him reasons.”
She pulls away, giving me a sad smile. I thank her, wiping my nose with the back of my hand, and she reaches over to grab me a tissue before leaving to get me a cup of water.
I can’t wait until the bariatrician comes in. I want this so bad for my dad. For me.
But I also know I can’t want it for him, and I can’t let myself be there if he chooses to die rather than get better. I can’t. It’s like a slow suicide and he’s the one pulling his own trigger.
23
Cade
Charley: Call me when you get to the hotel.
Ihike my bag up my shoulder, stifling a yawn. This trip wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as the last one I took with Charley. I won’t be helping her save Chuck or sleeping in the bed next to her.
I grab the key from the assistant coach and make my way up to the fifth floor. Once my door is shut behind me, I drop my bag and take in the room. The walls are all a stuffy brown, and heat blasts from the AC unit. I tap Charley’s name and bring my phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Sunshine. We just got in.”
It’s quiet. I stop where I am, worry streaking through me. Then I hear a whimper.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sorry.”
“No, tell me. What’s going on?”
“My dad saw a specialist today who deals with people really overweight like him…”
“Yeah?” I prompt.
“They need him to lose a hundred pounds before they’ll let him get the stent in his heart to help prevent him from having another heart attack. Then after that, they want him to have weight loss surgery, but he has to prove that he can lose weight on his own, and I’m scared, Cade. My dad has never tried to diet. Never.”
“I’m sure they’ll help him,” I offer before moving to the bed and lying on it.
“That’s the thing, they’re going to keep him in the hospital so they can bring his weight down in a controlled way, but then he has to go home and show that he can do some on his own. Otherwise, the weight loss surgery is a stupid idea if he won’t stick with it. It’ll put undue stress on his body.”