Page 50 of Full Court Crush

She sprung to her feet and dug out cleaning supplies, determined that before her dad arrived home, she would clean up properly, give him a clean and calm space to recover in.

A few hours later, the front door burst open, and the sound of joyous laughter pierced the silence. She returned to the living room, bright yellow washing-up gloves still on her hands. The silhouette of her father leant against the door frame. Her instinct was to rush to him, to help him support his weight, but she realised his need for physical support came from laughter, not frailty. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard him laugh like that. Eventually, he stepped into the living room, and a warm grin spread across his face.

“You’ve been busy, I see.” His voice was laced with gratitude.

“Hey, Dad.” She quickly wrapped him in a hug, careful not to plaster his back with soap suds. She would never get used to how thin he felt under her arms. She glanced past his shoulder to see her uncle, laden with bulging grocery bags that threatened to rip and spill their contents onto the floor. “And Uncle Frank!”

“Afternoon, Keira.” Frank winked as he sidestepped her and headed into the kitchen, placing the bags onto the counter with a huff. “We picked up a few things, seein’ as we were passing the shops anyway.”

“Thanks, Uncle Frank.” She knew full well that ‘a few things’ translated to several weeks’ worth of food. Her father’s pride would never allow him to outright accept money from his brother, but her resourceful uncle had found ways to help.

“Anything for my favourite niece.” Frank’s tease earned him a mock glare from Keira.

“I’m youronlyniece, Uncle Frank.”

She rolled her eyes, but grinned. She’d been his favourite niece all her life, and doubted this would change anytime soon.

“Coffee?” she asked, walking around Frank and picking up the kettle without waiting for an answer.

“I wouldn’t say no,” Frank said.

He leant back against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. The kettle started bubbling when he spoke again.

“So, how is he doing?” He jerked his head towards the living room, where a flicker of blue light from the television was visible.

“Oh, you know.” She shrugged. “Could be better, could be worse.”

“He’s looking awfully thin,” Frank observed.

“I know. I’m trying.” She turned away as her eyes watered, and picked up a sponge to clean the already clean sink.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I wasn’t having a go.” A gentle hand landed on her shoulder. “It’s not your fault, you know.”

“I know,” she admitted. “But maybe if I’d been here, they’d have caught it sooner. I could have made him see a doctor sooner.”

“Ha, you know how stubborn your dad can be. I doubt it would have made a difference.” Her uncle turned and pulled her into a hug, wet sponge and all. “He’s getting treatment now. That’s the main thing.”

She made coffee while Frank put away the shopping. He had the diplomacy not to mention how empty their fridge was before he restocked it. They returned to the living room, mugs in hand, only to find her dad asleep in his chair, one of his shoes still on his feet.

“I think I better head off, leave him rest.”

Frank returned his still-full mug to the kitchen.

“Take care, kiddo.” He kissed her on the top of her head. “Call me if you need anything, okay?” He looked directly into her eyes. She nodded and whispered her goodbye, before Frank quietly slipped out the door.

Keira looked at her father sleeping soundly, and a wave of tiredness washed over her. The pleasant ache her body had from yesterday was replaced by a more extreme fatigue, her limbs all slowly turning to stone. She put her coffee down on the coffee table, got onto her knees, and gently unlaced her dad’s remaining shoe, slipping it off without waking him. She stood back up, and eased his folded blanket out from behind his head, then draped it over him and tucked in the edges. Finally, she turned the heating up and settled on the sofa, coffee in hand. The television quietly muttered in the background.

A few hours later, her dad stirred in his chair as a small grimace of pain formed on his face. He slowly opened his eyes and smiled when he saw Keira sat diagonally opposite him.

“Hi, Petal,” he rasped, his throat clearly dry. Keira immediately sprang up and got him a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Thanks, love.” He took it from her, taking a long sip.

He turned to her, gaze a mix of curiosity and warmth. “So, did you have fun on your night off from babysitting your old man?”

“I don’t babysit—”

“I was joking, love.” His smile was warm. She took a deep breath and calmed.