I listened to Dr. Young tell me the details of my treatment. She walked me through exactly how many chemotherapy sessions I would undergo and what we would do after each one. She tried to be encouraging and positive, but I knew better.
When I left her office, I was exhausted. I had the day off, so I got in my car and drove to my apartment. My mind was blank until I walked through my front door. My phone rang, jolting me back to consciousness. I pulled it out of my pocket and smiled when I saw Caleb’s name flashing across the screen.
“Hi,” I said. “I just got home.”
“How’d it go?” he asked. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there with you.”
“It was okay,” I said. “The doctor walked me through her plan.”
“Which is?” he asked.
“Chemo,” I said. “She wants me to start as soon as possible.”
“Good,” he said. “That’s good, right?”
“Yeah,” I said weakly. “Yeah, it’s good.”
Caleb paused. I could practically hear how worried he was through the phone. I sighed and sunk down on my couch, taking deep breaths and trying not to cry. If I broke down, then Caleb would only feel worse.
“Come over,” he finally said. “You have the day off, right?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m off all day.”
“Then, come over,” he said. “I just got back from the station. I’m here for the rest of the day.”
I smiled. “Let me shower first, then I’ll head that way.”
“Hurry,” he said.
“I will.”
We said goodbye, and I took a step toward my bathroom. Before I could make it another, there was a loud knock on my door. I groaned. This day already felt endless, and it wasn’t even noon.
I walked toward the door and pulled it open, my eyes widening in shock when I saw my father standing before me. His eyes were lighter today, and his face was devoid of any anger. He looked nervous.
“What are you doing here?” I asked sharply.
“I’m here to talk to you,” he said softly. “Can I come in? Please?”
I wanted to slam the door in his face. After our last conversation, I couldn’t imagine what he possibly had to say to me. Still, he didn’t look angry. He didn’t even look upset. I sighed and stood aside, gesturing for him to come inside.
He walked quickly to the couch and sat down, tapping his foot nervously. My father was never a jittery person. He was always strong and confident. He didn’t shy away from things, and he never got scared. Seeing him shake with nerves was disconcerting. I sat down across from him and waited.
“I was wrong,” he said quickly, spitting out the words as if they hurt. “What I said about Caleb. I was wrong.”
“What?” I said. I’d waited a long time to hear him say those words, and now that he had, I couldn’t believe them.
“I’m sorry I was so angry with you,” he said. “Honey, I was just worried. Most of your life, it was you and me. You were all I had, and when Caleb came along, I saw you change.”
“You got scared,” I said.
“Yes.” He nodded. “Caleb wasn’t the best kid. I know he’s different now. As much as I hate to admit it, I can see how much he’s changed.”
“He has,” I said.
“I want the best for you,” Dad said. “I don’t always show it in the right way, but that’s all I want. All I want is for you to be safe and happy, Tara. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Caleb makes me happy,” I said. I smiled. “He’s the best person for me, Dad. There isn’t anyone better.”