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  It doesn’t take me long to think. “Can we move things around in his room for me to bring a cot in? I don’t want to leave him.” There’s a place in town that rents cots, beds, and other furniture.

  She smiles and gives me a wink. “Of course we can but I can do better. I’ll call and have Sam and David bring a cot for you. They can also help move things, if you need them to.”

  I smile – feeling like it’s been forever since I have. “Oh, that would be amazing. Thank you.”

  “No problem. I’ll have them bring some clean sheets, a pillow, and a blanket too.”

  “That is so sweet of you. I’ll have Brooke help me get started on rearranging things. We should have it done pretty quickly.” They’ve been so great. I lean in and give her a hug. “Thank you for everything,” I whisper.

  She hugs me back and steps back, holding onto my arms. “We’ll do everything we can to make him comfortable.” I nod, choking back my emotions.

  I watch her walk away and wipe my eyes. Taking a deep breath, I open the door and put a smile on. It’s time to get to work. And we did. Brooke didn’t even want to wait until Dax got here and helped me rearrange the room. By the time we were done, it looks more like a dorm room than a nursing home room. We moved the desk over by the small counters and pushed Dad’s bed against the wall by the window. Then we put the recliner next to his bed and made room for the cot on the other side of it. By the time Dax came back, the cot had been delivered and Brooke and I were sitting on it talking up a storm.

  “Looks like I’m missing a party,” he says as he walks in and sets up the record player on the TV stand that’s sitting next to the foot of Dad’s bed. He walks over and sets the photo albums on the bed next to me, leans over and gives me a kiss, then sits down in the recliner. “I don’t think we got a good chance to meet. I’m Dax.” He reaches his hand out, and Brooke gives me the “swoon” look and puts her hand in his.

  “Very, very nice to meet you,” she says sickeningly sweet. So not like her. (insert eye roll).

  We actually spent the rest of the evening, talking, laughing, listening to Dad’s records, and looking through photo albums. We watched the nurse come in every hour and take Dad’s vitals, holding our breaths each time. The look on her face was always the same – the look of a sad smile and sympathy that his time is growing shorter by the hour. Finally, we all crashed about one in the morning, Brooke on the little bit larger than single cot with me and Dax in the recliner. It was great having everyone I loved so close to me during this time. Then why did I feel so alone?

  I woke up with a start, sitting up on the cot, quickly. I look down and see Brooke still asleep. I look over at Dax and my breath is taken away from how gorgeous he is. He’d reclined the chair, his handsome face pressed against the palm of his hand with his elbow on the arm of the chair. I’ve not gotten to sit and really study him. I knew he was breathtakingly gorgeous and sexy as hell the moment I saw him at the bar, but as I admire him now I know I was wrong. He’s so much more than a beautiful face, strong muscles, and a six-pack of amazing abs. He’s got the biggest heart. He takes care of me, which is difficult since I’ve been so hard to take care of. He’s stood by me, always telling me I’m not alone, even though I still feel that way. It’s not him. It’s just the way I feel, losing the only family I have left. Still, his strength is just what I need, his words of love and encouragement, him becoming so close to Dad in such a short time, giving me just what I need when I need it.

  Coming out of my thoughts, I focus in on Betsy, the nurse I’d met at the hospital that seems so long ago, standing beside Dad’s bed. I tilt my head in confusion. She smiles, laying her hand down gently onto the mattress. When she winks and starts to walk past me, cocking her head towards the hall, I climb out of bed, picking up my robe from the wood chair by the bed and slip it on. She waits for me, closing the door once I’ve walk out.

  “Come join me,” she says with a smile. I follow her down the hall and out into the courtyard, the cool breeze making me wish I’d gotten dressed. We sit down on the same wooden bench I’d been occupying steadily for the last few days. We both turn in our seat as she reaches out and takes my hand. “Did your dad tell you that we’d chatted several times in the last few months?” I shook my head in surprise. “He’s a lovely man and so very proud of you.” I purse my lips, trying to hold back the tears I can feeling brewing. She looks out into the courtyard. “It’s difficult losing a loved one. God knows, it doesn’t get any easier each time.” She looks back at me and smiles. “There’s nothing anyone can say that can make you feel better, nothing anyone can do to make it easier.” She lets out a sigh. “But sometimes it’s better for them to go quickly, rather than drag out the inevitable. Your dad is a proud man and at some point that pride was stripped from him.” My heart begins to beat rapidly, knowing she’s so right. She squeezes my hand. “I know you know all this.” She sighs again and then gives me a sad look. “His vitals are diminishing rapidly. I know he doesn’t truly want to leave you but I’m praying that he goes home to his other loved ones quickly and without pain.”

  I squeeze her hand back and as a tear makes it way down my face, I gather my strength. “Me too.”

  The rest of the day, the Hospice nurses and the nursing home nurses took turns checking Dad’s vitals. Brooke went home to take a shower and change clothes and Dax held vigilance with me by Dad’s side. Brooke came back early evening, bearing gifts of chocolate and Chinese takeout. As with my appetite for several months, I poked and pushed around my food, staring at Dad.

  “Do you remember that time your dad scolded us for running down to the beach alone and you climbed that big rock and fell twisting your ankle. That same ankle you’d sprained so many times before?” She laughs, and I can’t help letting out one myself. She smiles. “He was so pissed.”

  We’d been sharing memories as we ate, or I guess while they ate. I have to admit, it’s helped me as we sit and wait. That’s one thing no one can ever take from me. My memories.

  I let out another laugh, Dax smiling as he watches me with great interest. “That wasn’t as bad as how angry he was when we moved from coloring in our coloring books to the wall in the living room.” She shrieks and then laughs, hysterically.

  “He totally freaked.” She laughs.

  It feels so good to laugh that I keep doing it until I look over at Dad. My smile fades quickly as I stand up with my heart pounding in my chest. “Did he quit breathing?” I’m jogging around to the other side of his bed, picking up his wrist, trying to find a pulse. Leaning down, I turn my head in front of his mouth, hoping I’ll feel his breath.

  “Brooke? Please go get the nurse.”

  Dax’s voice sends a chill through me as I stand back up, laying my hand over his heart. I don’t know what to feel but I know that I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.

  I feel him behind me.

  I feel his arm move around my waist.

  I see his hand lay over mine, still on Dad’s chest.

  I hear people entering the room.

  I see Tabitha press her stethoscope all over Dad’s chest.

  I hear Brooke crying.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  I feel the wetness in my eyes and on my face.

  I feel.

  I don’t feel.

  “We’ll just leave you alone.”

  I hear the sounds of footsteps then fading.

  “I’m not leaving you.”

  The low, rough voice of Dax warms me. His arm tightening around me.

  I want to push him away, pull him closer. I want to crawl inside his arms and have him tell me this is all a dream, that Dad will wake up and call me “sweetheart”. That all is not gone from my world.

  I don’t know how long we stand here, with our hands over Dad’s heart that is so silent, with Dax’s arm around me, tight and secure. I don’t want to move. I don’t want to leave him.

  “Saige?” Never taking my eyes away from Dad, I nod at Trudy’
s voice. “They’re coming to take him now.”

  Swallowing hard, I nod again. I remove my hand from Dad’s heart, Dax releasing mine and grasping my arm as I pick up Dad’s hand and squeeze.

  “Can you give her a moment, please?” Dax’s voice warms me, even though I feel so cold inside.

  Leaning down, I kiss Daddy’s cheek. “Tell Mom and Bobby “hi” for me and that I miss them terribly and love them. I’ll miss you so much, but I know it was time for you to go. Now you’re free, Daddy. You are yourself again and for that I’m glad. I know you’ll still be with me and will watch over me.” A tear falls on his face and I wipe it off. “I love you, so much.” My voice starts to tremble. I stand back up and squeeze his hand. I can’t speak anymore, and I have a hard time moving and will Dax to help me.

  Please, help me. I can’t leave him.

  As if he can read my thoughts, he takes my hand from Dad’s and with his arm still tightly around me, he leads me from the room, down the hall, and out the front door. A cool breeze causes the wetness on my face to feel more poignant. Nothing seems real, the numbness overwhelming. Dax opens his car door and lifts me, setting me down gently on the seat then buckles me in. I stare at my hands, folded in my lap, as I feel the dip of the car when he gets in, hearing the purr of the engine when he starts the car, and the movement as he pulls out. I don’t see anything but Dad’s face, the look as if he was only sleeping. I’m in a daze when Dax helps me out of his car and takes me into the house, feeling like there’s a cloud around my vision. We stop in the hallway.

  “Which room do you want to go to?”

  Which room? I look down the hall at Dad’s room and lower my brows. Turning left, I walk into my bedroom and stop. I’m not sure I can go to sleep or even rest. My body is exhausted but my mind is on instant replay of the day. It’s like a tug of war. I stare down at the floor as he undresses me until I’m only in my underwear. I raise my arms and he puts a t-shirt over my head and down my body. He leads me to my bed, helping me get under the covers, and before I can blink, I’m in his arms.

  “Tell me what I can do. Tell me what you need and it’s yours,” he whispers against my head then kisses there gently.

  “Just hold me,” I whisper, my voice hoarse from lack of use.

  He tightens his hold around me, brushing my hair back over my shoulder. “Always.”

  I’ve been lying here for what seems like a long time yet time has no meaning anymore. All the time in the world didn’t help Dad stay any longer. I close my eyes, praying that I can fall asleep, hoping that I don’t dream of anything.

  Darkness.

  Black.

  Void.

  I concentrate on the blackness and Dax’s arms around me.

  ~§~ ~§~ ~§~ ~§~

  I’m floating in what appears to be some kind of cavern. A mist clouds my vision, unable to see what’s around me and where I’m going. It smells wet and clean. The scene changes and I’m at the nursing home, looking down at Daddy. He’s asleep and has been for too long. Brooke, Dax, and I are eating, laughing as Brooke and I share memories. I want to get up and walk over to Daddy’s bed, yell at him for this horrible joke and to get up! Why won’t he open his eyes?

  He stops breathing and panic rises inside me. I run over to his beside and pick up his wrist, trying to find a pulse. I stare at his face, still appearing as if he’s asleep.

  “No, Daddy! Please, don’t go! Don’t leave me!”

  Abandoned. Alone. I feel death in the room all around me.

  I’m back in the cavern, still floating. The mist is thicker, so hard to see. Suddenly he appears as if floating towards me. Daddy. He puts his arms around me and hugs me so tightly. “Please, don’t let me go.”

  My eyes snap open and I’m sitting up in bed, breathing heavily. I turn and look down at Dax, sleeping peacefully, his arms under the covers. Looking forward, I try to catch my breath, placing my hand over my heart. It felt so real, like Dad was trying to comfort me. But that couldn’t be. Could it?

  “Saige?”

  I feel his hand on my arm and look at him over my shoulder. He lifts the covers and I snuggle into his side, feeling his warmth as he pulls the covers up over us. I hear him yawn but then feel him kiss the side of my head. “Bad dream?”

  I look up and smile. “Actually, it was a very nice dream.”

  He looks confused but smiles back. “Good.”

  Laying my head on his chest, my smile still in place, I close my eyes and hope for the dream and my daddy to return.

  The next morning I awaken feeling like I’d dreamt the entire day yesterday and last night. Everything still so surreal to me. He’s actually gone. But the vision I’d had in the night made me feel like he was with me, in a strange way. I swear I felt his arms around me and can still feel them. Raising my arms up in the air, I stretch then lay my hand down next to me, feeling around. Shifting my eyes, I notice Dax’s side of the bed is empty. Is there ever going to be a time when I wake up and he’s still in bed with me? It’s happened a few times but not nearly enough. At least this time there’s no note, telling me he’s here somewhere. Not having a note kind of saddens me. I go to the bathroom, take a shower, and get ready for the day. Well, as ready as I can be. I need to go to the funeral home and make an appointment for my hair, things I really don’t want to do. But there isn’t anyone else to finalize everything for his service.

  I walk out of the bathroom dressed and semi ready for the day, already dreading it. The aroma hits me instantly and my stomach growls. Bacon. Quickly, I walk from my room until I stop at the kitchen doorway. Dax has his back to me, shirtless, and only wearing his boxers. The muscles in his back and arms flex as he cooks. I lick my lips, self-consciously. I’ve not been really alive for so long. Looking at him, feeling him from across the room – it’s like everything inside me has awakened from a long sleep. It’s weird that I find myself horny at a time like this, not that I’ll act on it, but…. I walk over to him, slide my arms around his slim waist and rub up his defined abs. “Morning,” my voice sounding strange to me, not using it much for so long.

  He looks at me from over his shoulder, a big smile showing as he turns, slightly, and leans down, giving me a kiss. “Morning. Hungry?” For more than one thing. I nod, eagerly, my stomach telling him just how much I am. He chuckles. “Go. Sit. I’ve almost got your eggs ready.” I lean up and kiss him again because I can, and it feels good to feel again. I sit down and grab a piece of bacon, shoving it in my mouth, and close my eyes at the amazing taste. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days, and I guess that’s pretty true but more like months. My appetite has returned with a vengeance.

  “I’m so glad to see you eating again.”

  Dax’s voice causes me to open my eyes. There’s eggs on my plate, sunny side up, and I’m a little disappointed to see he’d put on a t-shirt. I smile around my fork full of food and chew like my life depended on it. Maybe it does since I really haven’t been taking care of myself. Dax has tried, to no avail, but I just couldn’t, given the circumstances.

  “What all do we need to do today?” We.

  I watch as he pushes his fork into his mouth, his lips encasing it. God, everything he does is sexy. “I….” I clear my throat. “I have to go to the funeral home, make a hair appointment.” I think for a moment. “I need to clean up around here in case some people stop by.” I don’t feel like doing any of this. Can’t I just stay home and grieve, quietly? I want to curl up into a ball and let myself cry until there are no more tears. At the same time, I want to go jogging on the beach, feeling energy that I haven’t had in so long. It’s weird.

  “I’ll start cleaning as soon as I clean up the breakfast dishes,” he tells me. I watch mesmerized as he sops up egg with a piece of toast. “Then I’ll take you to the funeral home.” I look up and into his eyes, staring into mine. “You don’t have to do everything by yourself.” He smiles. “But you’re on your own for your hair appointment.” He winks and I melt.

  I totally
need to get my shit together. This is gonna be a long day.

  26

  He wouldn’t let me help him clean the kitchen, telling me I had more important things to do. Doesn’t he realize I don’t really want to do them? Then I feel bad as he cleans and I just sit here so I get up and go into the living room, sit down on the couch and start making calls. The funeral home said I could come in about an hour. My hair stylist, whom I’ve known for years, gave me her sympathies, and told me I could come in this afternoon, which means pretty much after I get done at the nursing home from getting Dad’s things. Dad’s lawyer, Fred, said he’d heard already (small town) and already had papers in order and everything ready, whenever I’d like to come in. I told him it might be a few days.

  The funeral home attendant was nice. She showed me and Dax where’s Dad’s resting place will be. Next to Mom in a vault, with Bobby beside them. Dad had taken care of everything from the casket, the service, even down to the flowers. There’s one thing he’d forgotten or maybe he didn’t want – music. I’ll have to come up with something. Once we left there, it was almost time for my hair appointment. Dax pulls into a parking spot in front of the shop, but I don’t get out.

  “Maybe my hair is fine as it is,” I say, looking at the shop, not really wanting to go inside, not wanting to leave Dax.

  “Saige.” I’m drawn to his voice, turning to face him. “You look beautiful no matter what you do. Go. Get your hair done. Have a mani/pedi. Treat yourself. Try to relax for a little while.” I swallow hard at his words. So caring. Giving. “I’ll go in with you, if you want. I’ll sit here in the car or I’ll go workout and come back. I can go get your dad’s room packed and loaded and take it to your house.” My house. He leans over until his seatbelt restricts him so I lean towards him until we are but a breath away. His lips are soft, warm as they touch mine. “I’ll do whatever you wish.” He kisses me. It feels like forever ago since he did. It’s been too long since I felt something so wonderful, so overpowering. He stops too soon but I smile, knowing there’s more to come later.