“Did he suffer?”
“From what I’ve been told, it happened quickly.”
“Did he ask for me?”
“I don’t know, Nora.”
I left, clutching the envelope.
I needed answers. And this time, I wasn’t leaving without them.
I was wrong.
***
Forty minutes later, I pulled into Mom’s driveway.
Paige’s car was there. So was Dean’s.
Through the window, I saw balloons.
My family had apparently found time to celebrate my recovery. They just hadn’t found time to tell me Dad was buried.
I opened the door.
I needed answers.
“Surprise!”
- Mom stood beside a cake.
- Paige held champagne.
- Dean was arranging plates.
I dropped the letter onto the table. “Is Dad dead?”
Their smiles vanished.
“Yes,” Mom whispered.
Surprise!
“You buried him without telling me?”
“We were protecting you!”
“From saying goodbye to my father?”
Paige stepped forward. “Mom thought you couldn’t handle it.”
“You all attended his funeral?”
Is Dad dead?
Nobody answered.
“I wanted to tell you,” Dean said.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“I tried after the funeral. Mom said she’d spoken to your doctors. She thought the shock could ruin your recovery.”
“And you believed her?”
You couldn’t handle it.
“We’d just lost Dad. I couldn’t bear losing you too.”
“So you let me keep calling him?”
Dean lowered his eyes. “At first, Mom said we’d tell you after your final scans.”
“And afterward?”
Silence.
The shock could ruin your recovery.
I turned to Mom. “You knew I was waiting for him.”
“I’m sorry, Nora.”
“No. You’re sorry I found out.”
I grabbed the letter from the table and walked outside, ignoring their calls.
My recovery party was ruined. But my family had something else to celebrate behind my back.
I couldn’t bear losing you.
***
The next morning, I went to the cemetery.
I carried Dad’s wooden bird.
I wasn’t ready to forgive my family. I just wanted a few minutes alone with Dad.
I found Dad’s headstone beneath a maple tree.
“Hey, Dad.”
Something else to celebrate behind my back.
My voice cracked.
“I did it. My scans are clear.”
I placed the bird beside his name.
“You promised we’d build something together.”
Footsteps approached.
I just wanted a few minutes alone with Dad.
Walter, Dad’s longtime friend, stood holding flowers.
“Your father would’ve been proud.”
“I wish I’d told him. I only learned yesterday he died.”
Walter froze. “Linda told everyone you couldn’t attend the funeral because of treatment.”
“She never told me about it.”
We’d build something together.
