Sam turned on the radio and adjusted the wipers to intermittent. Interrupting his last few days at the Lodge with Sophie was not what he had in mind. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. That man was bound and determined to interfere with his life clear to the end.
“You okay?” He shrugged. “You’ve got frown lines and look like you want to punch something.” Sophie let out a soft laugh. Sam side-eyed her. Let out a sigh.
“I don’t know how to get out from under my dad’s control. My mom’s for that matter. Believe me, I’ve tried to understand them. But clearly, that’s never going to happen.”
“You’re their only child now. I’m sure your mom just wants you to make peace with your dad before he dies.”
“Did he have to pick this week?” He slammed his palm onto the steering wheel. “I’m not staying at the hospital a minute longer than I have to. She asked me to come. I’m coming. But I’m not making any promises.”
Sophie glanced in the back seat at the sleeping Darby. “Let’s take Darby in long enough to say hello and I’ll take her for a walk to the cafeteria for a treat.”
Sam nodded. Sophie had been there when his mom had called, begging him to come see his dad, saying he wasn’t going to last much longer. He expected to get there and find out this was another one of their manipulative moves. But what if he was wrong?
He was grateful Sophie had offered to come along. She had a calming effect on him. He still hadn’t asked her to the ball. Maybe now would be a good time. As he started to open his mouth, a driver cut him off. An expletive escaped from his mouth. No, now wasn’t the time.
Sophie’s phone buzzed. She read the text and squealed. “It’s the international school. They offered me a job!” Her jaw dropped as she turned to look at him.
“That’s. . .” Sam ran his hand through his beard. “Nice. You’ve been hoping for that.” He swallowed. So much for hoping things were heading in the right direction.
She put her phone in her lap. “They want me to start the second week of January. The position is just till June. But if things go well, they’ll keep me on for the following year.”
That was only two weeks away. “I’m happy for you, Sophie. I really am.” Did his voice reflect the lie?
Okay Lord, is this you saying we should take a longer break?
Sam pulled into the parking lot and turned off the car. He whooshed out a long breath.
“Ready?” Sophie opened the back door and helped Darby out of her car seat.
Sam’s feet felt like lead, one step in front of the other until they found room 205. The only light in the room filtered in through the window. A monitor beeped, little blips modulating on the screen. His dad looked small under the sheet— his face wan with the left side of his jaw slack.
“You finally made it.” His mom glanced up from her crossword puzzle. She could have put a little excitement in her voice. Even here in the hospital where no one could possibly care, her face was made up and she looked like she had just come from the beauty shop.
“Grandma!” Darby ran into her arms and glanced at his dad. “What’s wrong with grandpa?”
His mom smoothed Darby’s bangs from her eyes. “He’s not feeling well, baby.”
“Is that my girl?” His dad adjusted himself in the bed. “Come give me a hug.” He reached out his arms, the tube dangling from his stronger hand. Darby gave a tentative hug and backed away.
“Come on Darby, let’s go see if we can find a snack. You’re probably hungry after that long drive.” She hopped down and took Sophie’s hand. Sophie gave a slight nod to Sam. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to enter any kind of conversation with them.
“How are you feeling, dad?” It surprised Sam how flat his voice sounded.
“How the h— do you think I’m feeling? Look at me! You’ve got eyes, don’t you?”
“I’m sure it’s frustrating for you to be here.”
His dad nodded. “Was that Sophie? I thought you two weren’t together anymore.”
Sam cleared his throat. “We’re not, exactly.” He turned towards the window.
“What’s that supposed to mean? She was the best thing that ever happened to you, except maybe Darby.”
Sam huffed. “Everything is a war with you.” He turned to the window.
“That’s cuz life is a war. Illness comes? You have to fight it. Kids make bad decisions? It becomes a battle. Listen to me. I may not have long to live, but if I’ve learned one thing— the things you love are worth fighting for.” Sam turned back. His dad swiped the back of his hand against the drool on his lips.
“You didn’t fight for Sophie. You let your job rejection come in the way of your relationship. And as usual, you took the coward’s way out.” He shook his head. “Real men stay and fight. Even when it’s tough. They fight for the things they love.” He fell back against his pillow.
“And is that why we’re always fighting? Because if it is, that’s a weird way of showing you love me.”
His dad motioned for a glass of water. Sam handed it to him. “I’m sorry son. It’s the only way I know how.”
“Sam,” his mom’s face was pained, “your dad needs to rest.”
“I’ll see myself out.” Sam leaned down and gave her a peck on her cheek.
“He means well, son.” Yeah, I’m sure he does.
* * *
They had ridden home in silence. Sam needed to process. She needed to process. What was taking the job in Germany going to say? That it was more important than Sam? She wasn’t even sure where they stood. If she were honest, she wasn’t sure which she could give up—Germany which was a sure thing, or Sam.
He hadn’t asked her to the ball. Maybe he was worried they’d get too close. She wouldn’t blame him. He had Darby to think of. She should give back Megan’s dress. And go ahead and take the job.
They pulled up to the Lodge. “Sam, thank you for whittling the star for the stable. It was beautiful.” He shrugged.
“I have something for you, too. Um, Darby chose me for your secret santa.” She reached into her bag and retrieved a package.
He pulled it out of the wrapping and looked at her. “When did you take this?”
“The other day when you guys were sledding. You were so cute.” She smiled. “Darby made the frame.”
“That might be the best present I’ve ever received. Thank you.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. She nodded and slid out of the truck. Now was not the time to get mushy.