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  I feel like a school girl with her first major crush. I always studied too much and too hard and didn’t go out much through high school or college and there was no time during nursing school.

  He stops and I look up at him. “Why’d you stop,” I ask panting.

  He gives me that amazing smile. “You’re gonna be late for work.”

  I gasp and raise my hand and look at my watch. I smack his shoulder, playfully. “Oh God! I’m gonna be late!”

  He leans in and kisses me hard then opens the door. When I walk past, he smacks my bottom. “I’ll be here to help get your dad home when you get off.” I nod and start walking down the hallway. “Too bad we didn’t have a little more time. I really wanted to get you off,” he whispers. I turn my head as I continue to walk and see him leaning against the wall, looking all sexy and relaxed. I blow him a kiss and turn the corner.

  The time during work slowed down to a crawl, and we were crazy busy. Sometimes I think the universe just hates me, knowing I’m so anxious to get Dad and have him home for a few hours. I’ve been marinating the steaks since this morning, the salad is prepared and in the fridge, and the potato-vegetable mixture is already in foil, waiting to be put on the grill. Finally, the clock moved and it was time to go get Dad.

  Once I got to the nursing home, Dax helped me get Dad into my car. Dax followed me home but I hadn’t even mentioned to Dad that Dax was coming over. Shit! I guess I’ve been going too much and so excited, I hadn’t thought about telling him. Will he think it’s weird? Will he be disappointed that it’s not going to be just him and me? By the time I’ve driven for about five minutes, Dad starts talking to me.

  “I know he’s coming over.” I grip the steering wheel, waiting for the part that I’ve let him down. “I also know he’s pretty smitten with you.” I glance his way and see him smiling. “By the way you look, I’d say you might just like him as well.”

  “Dad, I…”

  He raises his hand, stopping me. “It’s okay to have someone, Saige, to be happy. What we’re going through right now is a test of his love for you. Things like, will he support you, be there for you to cry on his shoulder, will he take care of you the way a man should take care of a woman – all these things are a test when there’s a difficult time ahead. Some couples don’t make it through the rough times. They’re not strong enough. It’s one of life’s tests that will show you if you all are truly meant to be together.”

  I look over at him and smile. “When did you get so smart?”

  He laughs. “Oh, I didn’t use to be. Being with your mother taught me so much. We went through a lot together. Money problems can tear you apart, life decisions, especially after you and Bobby came into our lives. Being together is a huge responsibility in itself then add kids to the mix and everything magnifies.” He laughs again but then grows somber. “Life throws things at you right and left but listen to each other, never go to bed angry, work through problems together, hold onto each other, and never lie. Don’t just love each other but become best friends. Don’t lose your independence but lean on him. Most of all, love each other as if it’s your last day on earth. Treasure every single minute of the day.”

  With tears in my eyes, I pull into the driveway and stop the car, put it in park, and shift in my seat to face him. “Daddy, I think I’m falling in love with him.” Or already have.

  He turns to face me and takes my hand. “That’s great, sweetheart. I really like Brice and I think he’s the right man for you.”

  “You do? How do you know?” I whisper, a tear falling from my eye.

  He smiles. “Because I’ve gotten to know him a little better and I know how he feels about you, know in my heart. I can tell by the way he looks at you, watches you. The way his eyes light up when you walk into a room. I felt the same way about your mom, couldn’t wait to see her, touch her, be with her.” He shifts a little more, and I watch his face change as if he’s visualizing Mom. “When you can’t stand being away from him, when he’s all you think about. When you can’t imagine your life without him, or when you put his needs before yours. When your heart is so full you feel it could bust right open when you’re with him, and when you’d gladly give up your life for him, then you’ll know he’s the right person for you.” I smile, looking down at our hands and thinking about all he’s said and wondering if I feel that for Dax. “But honey.” I look back at him. “He needs to feel that way about you too or your relationship won’t work no matter how much you want it to. Just be sure he does.”

  I unbuckle my seatbelt and slide over the seat to him, putting my arms around his shoulders, and lay my head down on his chest. “Thanks, Daddy. I love you.”

  Dax arrived shortly after I got done crying on Dad’s shoulder in the car. He helped get Dad out of the car and got his walker out for him. We had a great time eating dinner and laughing. Dad had me get out the photo albums while we sat in the living room. It was a great time, recalling memories. I got so embarrassed as Dad recounted all the things I did as he showed Dax all the pictures of me. From when I was born, from the multiple times I skinned my knees after falling off my bike or skateboard, to me standing in my uniform for my first job at the snack stand in town, to me in my prom dress standing next to Kirby Matthews. I swear at that picture I heard a quiet growl coming from Dax.

  The happy time changed to sadness when we had to take Dad back to the nursing home but lots of hugs, kisses, and promises for him to come back for another visit soon and hopefully come home to stay in the near future.

  I felt so depressed when we returned home. Dax and I didn’t speak, didn’t need to. We both removed our clothes and instead of having amazing sex, he held me in his arms all night, whispering words of love, kissing the top of my head, and rubbing my arm as I drifted off into a restless sleep.

  ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~

  Another month flies by. I’m happy but exhausted. Dax still does Dad’s therapy every morning. I go for my visit then to work, go back to visit again, and then home with Dax. It’s a routine I’ve gotten used to and the two other times we brought Dad home were so amazing. Last night Dax told me he had to go out of town for “business” again. Now that I know what he does, and that he’s in danger, I’m scared to death. Bad pun on words, I know. It took all night, lying in his arms, for him to reassure me he’d be fine and will come back to me in two days. Two days! We haven’t been apart that long since we met. I hate it, and I know I’ll be a wreck until he returns.

  My other fear is in the last week I’ve noticed a change in Dad. He quit making his bed in the mornings as I’d gotten used to seeing when I’d arrive there. He doesn’t dress in the morning and hasn’t been walking with his walker multiple times a day like he used to. Dax told me he noticed it as well and told me to text him often while he’s gone to keep him updated and also reminded me that I need to eat and stay healthy if not for myself but for Dad. I mentioned my concerns about Dad to his doctor yesterday, and he said he would conduct a physical and do some tests. I’ve learned that dementia can move fast or slow, you just never know until it happens. I’m beyond worried and feel like our time is slipping away.

  The next morning, I go to the nursing home with a heavy heart, knowing that what I fear will come to true. I walk straight to Dr. Turner’s office, knowing he gets there early to start his rounds. I knock on his slightly open door. He looks up from his desk and waves me inside. I shake internally as I walk in and sit down in the chair in front of him.

  “Saige, good to see you,” he says as he removes his glasses.

  Coming here as much as I have in the three and a half months, I’m on first name basis with everyone who works here and several of the patients too.

  “He’s getting worse.” Not a question but I’m afraid a fact.

  He puts his elbows on the desk and clasps his hands. “Yes. I’m sorry. I studied all the tests I ran yesterday and it seems that the dementia has worsened rather quickly, even after I’d increased the dosage of Memantine. He was do
ing so well with it.”

  “Is there another drug we can try?”

  “There are a couple but the success rate hasn’t been as good as Memantine.” He unfolds his hands and puts his glasses back on. “I know you understand this more than most, being a nurse, but you know it’s only a matter of time that he’ll worsen. However, I’ll change medications if you’d prefer. It’s up to you.”

  Dad and I had talked just a couple of weeks ago, his fear of me trying to hang onto him when there’s no hope, was eating at him.

  “Promise me something,” he says taking my hand in his.

  “Anything, Dad, you know that,” I replied, scared but knowing in my heart what he’s about to say.

  “Don’t hang on. If I begin to worsen, let me go. Let me go with dignity. I’m ready to be with your mom and Bobby. Don’t make me stay when I’m no longer myself.” Tears well in my eyes. “I don’t want to leave you and I’d give anything to stay, but you know as well as I do, that’s impossible.” I nod, a tear falling from my eye. He smiles. “I’ve had the best life, one I wouldn’t have traded for the world. I love you so much but I know I’m leaving you in the most capable hands. Brice and you belong together. You’ll take care of each other. I couldn’t have found you a better man to love you.”

  I sit up straight, wiping away the tear on my cheek I hadn’t realized was there. “No. He wouldn’t want this to be prolonged. It’s his wish.” This is by far the hardest thing I’ve ever said in my life. But I know in my heart it’s what Dad would want. He’s right, I shouldn’t hold onto the inevitable. It’s not fair to him.

  Dr. Turner smiles sadly and nods. “I understand. I know how hard it is to make these decisions. In light of this, we’ll need to move him to the permanent hall. Our rooms are full on the therapy floor, and I’m afraid we need his room. Please consider bringing anything from home that will make him more comfortable.” I nod, not able to speak.

  I walk to Dad’s room with my heart lodged in my throat, the numbness I had when I learned he was ill has returned ten-fold. I forced myself to tell him he was being moved to another hall, and I could bring anything from home that he wanted me to. He didn’t speak, didn’t even look at me, but I could tell he heard me. I didn’t tell him he was never coming home or that this horrible illness was taking him from me. I talked about anything and everything I could about our past, memories to try to get him to think about them. I spent the better part of my early evening, after work, helping a couple of the staff to move Dad into a hall that felt like the end. The patients here need twenty-four hour care and most can’t walk or do anything for themselves. I hate this! Hate that Dad has to be in a place where it was so final.

  The first night home alone, I felt lost, insecure. Dax wasn’t there to talk to, or to hold me and tell me that he’s there for me. Then I worried all night about Dad and Dax to the point I had to run to the toilet and get sick. The next morning when I visited Dad, he laid in bed in his pajamas, staring at the TV that wasn’t turned on. I asked if he wanted me to see if I could find a game for him to watch and he said no. Then I did all the talking with him only giving me one or two word answers. It broke my heart, feeling like I had already lost him. He would just sit there and stare ahead. That afternoon was no better. I’d gotten there after work but this time, he just laid with his back to me. I continued to share memories, although it was totally a one-sided conversation, hoping he won’t forget.

  I cried all the way home and went straight to his bedroom, crawling into bed, and cried into his pillow. After a half an hour, I fell asleep, my face still damp from my tears. I awoke in the darkness, my phone dinging on the nightstand, causing me to sit up in alarm. Once I picked it up and swiped the screen, I saw several texts from Dax.

  Dax: How are you, Angel?

  Dax: I should be there by nightfall tomorrow.

  Dax: Saige?

  Dax: Dammit! Answer me, please!

  Dax: If you don’t answer me, I’m contacting Peter to come check on you.

  Pushing my hair away from my face, I quickly send him a text. That’s all he needs is to be worried about me or anything else for that matter while he could be in danger.

  Me: I’m fine. Sorry, fell asleep. I miss you.

  I look at the clock and sigh. It’s only two in the morning. I lay on my back, holding my phone, but I really don’t want to close my eyes. My phone dings in my hands and I raise it, looking at his text.

  Dax: Thank fuck! I was about to forget Peter and start driving back.

  I smile, knowing he’d do that for me. It would make me feel better with him being here. Not just about Dad but also he wouldn’t be in danger then. I wish whatever he’s doing would be over so he’d be safe.

  Dax: I miss you so much it hurts.

  “I miss you too,” I say out loud to myself, taking a shaky breath. “So much it’s killing me.”

  Dax: Are you eating?

  I let out a laugh, missing the notes he’d leave me in the morning. Waking up with him every day, he hasn’t had to leave them. Now, he just tells me and makes me swear to eat something solid and substantial, or he’ll kick my ass.

  Me: Yes

  I lie. I haven’t really eaten in the last two days due to the stress of everything with Dad. When I got sick, a couple of hours ago, there wasn’t much in me to purge. I mainly dry heaved.

  Dax: You’re still a terrible liar.

  In such a short time, he’s gotten to know me too well. I guess I’ve gotten to know him fairly well, except for the things he can’t tell me. I trust him though. He said once it’s over he’ll tell me everything and I believe him.

  Dax: How’s Harry doing?

  Shit! What should I tell him? He’ll only worry if I tell him the truth. Maybe a little white lie won’t hurt. His mind needs to be on what he’s doing or something really bad could happen. After last time, he needs to be totally focused. Dad said never to lie in a relationship but what if it causes something bad to happen to him, even worse than last time? I suck in the side of my cheek and start gnawing on it in frustration. When I didn’t answer my texts, he said he was about to come home. Maybe if I told him about Dad, he’d come back now and then he wouldn’t be in danger. Oh, my God! How selfish of me to want to do that to him. Then again, maybe it would save his life.

  Dax: Saige? What’s going on?

  Great! Now I’ve worried him anyway.

  Me: Sorry, I dozed off. He’s doing good.

  Two white lies. I’m going to be damned and go to hell.

  Dax: Yeah, it’s late or early, I should say. Glad to hear it. I hate to go but you need sleep and I have to get back to work.

  How do wives or girlfriends of men who are firemen, policemen, or in some kind of armed forces, endure their men being gone from them, putting themselves in danger? I don’t think I’d ever live through it. At least they can talk to each other in groups about stuff their men are going through. I don’t even know what Dax is doing.

  Dax: Night, beautiful. Mia per sempre. I’ll see you tomorrow night.

  Mia per sempre. I wonder what that means? I’ll have to google that in the morning.

  Me: Goodnight. Please, stay safe. I can’t wait to see you.

  I lay awake, still holding my phone. After a while when he doesn’t reply, I turn onto my side and lay my phone down on the mattress next to me. Finally, I close my eyes and hope sleep takes me.

  22

  I sit up with a start, my sight is hazy and sleep filled. I look down as my phone rings, incessantly. Picking it up, I yawn and look at the screen. It’s the hospital. I jump out of the bed, throwing clothes on as I swipe the screen.

  “Yes? Saige Benton.”

  I’m hopping around trying to get my jeans on while the phone is smashed into my ear, holding on with my shoulder.

  “Saige. It’s Martha. Your dad’s been brought into the ER. His blood pressure is too high and he was having chest pains. I would have called sooner but we had to get him in for a chest x-ray immediately. I
stayed with him, as I thought you wouldn’t want him to be alone. He’s in a room now.”

  My heart pounds as I grab my purse and run through the house. “Thank you, Martha. I’m on my way.” I end the call and get in my car, backing out of the garage before the door is open fully. I race down the street and pray all the lights are green on the way to the hospital. Martha’s another friend since grade school. I remember her and me playing on the playground and later going to the junior prom with our dates. I hadn’t seen her since I’ve been home but really, I haven’t been anywhere much to be seen. Once parked in the ER lot, I jog through the front doors and right over to the nurse’s station. Martha stands and walks to me, giving me a hug.

  “He’s comfortable and sleeping right now. We haven’t moved him yet because we’re not sure if he’s staying. But you know we won’t take any chances. He’s been pretty despondent.” I believe that since he’s pretty much shut down. “Come. I’ll take you to him.” I nod and follow her through a set of wide electronic doors, then down a hall. She leads me into a small room and when I walk in I try to hold back my tears. “I’ll just leave you two alone. Call if you need me.”