Stone Cold Cowboy(58)
She believed her father chose his quality of life over the side effects of aggressive treatments, but she also knew her father chose to be home with her and spare her the cost of those treatments. They had insurance, but it didn’t cover even half of everything, based on how much Connor’s hospital visits cost them. She’d spent the last years trying to keep their heads above water with the bills and Connor’s added debts. Her father didn’t want to saddle her with more burdens. She understood his way of thinking, but she didn’t like it. She wanted him to fight to live. Not give up because of the financial and emotional cost. Her father had always been practical, straightforward, and had always done what had to be done. Like her.
“What do we need to do for him now?”
“I’ve compared his new MRI, X-rays, and blood work. I’m sorry to say his condition is worse and deteriorating quickly.”
“What does that mean?” She couldn’t help the catch in her voice or the tears gathering in her eyes. She didn’t want to hear the dire news, but had to face the reality staring her in the face.
“Have you noticed a change in your father recently? Has he had trouble with his motor skills and memory?”
“Yes. He tells stories over and over. He forgets words. I think reading has become difficult. His balance seems off.” She stared down at her father’s battered face. “I’ve found him wandering outside, looking for my mother, or just simply lost.”
“The cancer has spread to his brain.” The doctor said the words she didn’t want to hear and tried to deny.
Tears streamed down her face. She swiped them away, but more fell.
“How long?” She choked out the words, but didn’t want to hear the answer.
“It’s hard to say for sure, but with the brain injury your father suffered during the fall, not long.”
“He’s not leaving this hospital, is he?”
“No. I’m sorry. He signed a Do Not Resuscitate order. We will keep him comfortable.”
“Do you think he’ll wake up again before . . .”
“It’s not likely. I suggest you talk to him. One never knows how much a patient hears while in a coma.” The doctor glanced at her shirt and hands. “I’ll ask a nurse to find you something to change into. You should wash up. You’ll be more comfortable.”
Sadie held up her hands and stared at the dried blood smeared over her skin. Her shirt had mostly dried into an ugly brownish-red splatter.
“Is there someone I can call for you?”
She thought of Rory. She should have called him to let him know she wouldn’t be coming to his house today. She wished he was here. She needed to feel his strong arms around her. She needed his strength and understanding and comfort. She needed him to tell her everything would be all right.
Unbidden tears kept coming, trailing down her cheeks. She didn’t wipe them away, but stood like a statue unsure what to do.
“Miss Higgins?”
She turned to face the doctor and spotted Rory walking down the corridor from the elevator behind him. She didn’t think, didn’t say a word, just went with instinct and ran to him.
Rory caught her when she leaped into his arms and slammed into his chest. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her wet face in his neck. He held her close, her legs dangling against his shins. The wracking sobs she let loose made him think the worst happened, but he spotted the doctor standing in the doorway of the room she’d come out of and headed in his direction, carrying Sadie down the corridor.
“I got you, sweetheart. Everything is going to be all right.”
“It is now that you’re here.”
Those words went straight to his heart. He held her tighter and kissed her on the head. He stopped in front of the doctor.
“I’ll leave you two alone with Mr. Higgins. If you have any questions, Sadie, or need anything, please ask the nurse to call me. I’ll be back later to check on your father.”
The doctor nodded at Rory, then walked down the hall. Rory took Sadie into the room. He dropped the bag he’d brought on the floor and sat in the chair beside her father’s bed. He cradled Sadie in his lap and let her cry.
Rory rubbed Sadie’s back. “It’s okay, sweetheart, let it all out.”
A nurse came in with a box of tissues and set it on the bed within reach. “Can I get you anything?”
“If you don’t mind, a glass of water, please.” Rory hugged Sadie closer as her tears faded, but her grief kept her clinging to him. He didn’t mind. In fact, her need for his comfort, the way she’d flown into his arms, relieved to see him, spoke to how close they’d become in such a short time.