“He doesn’t,” Cathy said with a weak smile. She turned to her son and touched his cheek. “Darren doesn’t hate him. He never has. He’s just scared. Tara, he lost your mom, and he’s terrified that he’ll lose you too.”
“That doesn’t give him the right to act like this,” I said.
“It doesn’t.” Cathy nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
I thanked her. Caleb kissed me goodbye, lingering on my lips just long enough to make me want more. He smiled sadly and followed his mom out to the car. I watched them go feeling more confused than ever.
If Cathy was right and she could convince my dad to lighten up about Caleb and me, then what? I would have no choice but to tell him about my cancer. Even after telling Cathy, I still didn’t know if I was ready to have that conversation.
The weekend passed in a blur. I suffered through the rest of my sessions on Saturday and spent Sunday with Caleb. We holed up in his apartment, ordering in and watching Netflix until the sun set. It was easy and simple, exactly the kind of day I needed.
My headaches hadn’t yet returned, which felt like a miracle. I let myself believe the doctors were wrong. It didn’t make sense, but while I sat with Caleb on his couch, I pretended my diagnosis was a mistake. I imagined getting a phone call from my doctor, telling me the results were mixed up. I only needed to take migraine pills. It was a daydream I held onto for hours. It kept me happy until Monday morning.
I was sitting at my desk, finishing up some paperwork when the door to the PT building clanged open. I frowned and looked up to see my father walking toward me.
It was early, too early for any PT sessions, so we had the building to ourselves. Dad walked over to me, his face set and his eyes closed off. I could tell he wasn’t ready to talk to me, but Cathy sent him. Immediately, my guard went up.
“Dad,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought we could have breakfast,” Dad said. “Unless you’re too busy.”
“No,” I said, glancing down at my desk. “I was just finishing some paperwork. My first session isn’t until the afternoon.”
“Great,” Dad said, though he didn’t seem happy. “Does the cafeteria sound okay?”
“Sure.” I shrugged and got to my feet.
We walked into the main hospital and rode the elevator to the third floor. The cafeteria was mostly empty, which I thought was a good thing. If I did end up telling him about my cancer, it would be best to not have an audience.
We got our food, and each grabbed a cup of coffee. When we sat down, an awkward silence settled around us. Dad sipped his coffee and avoided my eyes while I took small bites of my blueberry muffin. It was uncomfortable in a way it shouldn’t have been. This man was my father, the only living parent I had left. I shouldn’t be afraid of him. And yet, I was.
“So,” Dad finally said. He set down his coffee and met my eyes. I swallowed my food and stared at him, preparing myself for a lecture. “Your stepmother said you and I should talk.”
I sighed. “She did?”
“Yes,” Dad said. “She seems to think this rift between us is unhealthy.”
“Well, it is,” I said honestly. “I know you don’t approve of Caleb.”
“So you two are together, then?” he asked quickly.
“I thought you knew that?” I asked, frowning.
“I guess I was hoping to be wrong,” Dad said with a sigh. “Last time I spoke to Caleb, he mentioned that you were pulling away from him. I hoped that meant you’d finally seen the error of your ways.”
“Dad,” I began. “Just listen, okay?”
He stared at me as if he wanted to argue but he didn’t. He pressed his lips tightly together and nodded for me to continue.
“I love him,” I said. Dad flinched. I pressed on. “I know you don’t like him and honestly, I understand why. When Cathy and Caleb came into our lives, Caleb wasn’t in the best place. He was a rough kid who had a lot of problems. Trust me, I know that better than anyone. But I loved him then, and I love him now. The only difference is he isn’t that person anymore.”
I paused, expecting my dad to interrupt. He didn’t. He stared at me and waited for me to continue.
“He’s grown up to be an amazing man,” I said. “He’s a hero now. I mean, what he did for that family. Dad, it was incredible. He saved their lives. He’s not the same kid we all used to know. And I know deep down you know that too.”
Dad nodded, but his face stayed set.
“I wish there was a way I could show you that he’s changed,” I said with a sigh. “You watched him go through military school. You were there when he joined the army. Hell, you’ve seen him more in the last ten years than I have. How can you doubt, even for a second, that he’s changed?”