“How would you quantify his time?” I ask my father’s doctor. There’s no polite way to ask how much sooner it’ll be until my dad passes the bridge to the other side. I may sound like a dick, but at this point, I've learned it doesn’t matter. I never specialized in a certain field of medicine because I couldn’t. I am a general surgeon. I like to know a lot of information on a wide range of topics, but I don’t have the credibility to commit to one field. While I do know medicine, I also know death, and there’s no point of beating around the bush. The end is near and I don’t know if that means days, weeks, months, but surely it means there’s not much more awaiting around his corner. 

“I would say a couple weeks at best,” he crosses his arms. “Maybe a few months. The most we can do is keep him comfortable.”

Liv tugs on my hand, but I wish I could say I don’t care. Truthfully, I shouldn’t, but without me he has nothing and some small part of me knows I will regret it if I leave. 

Eric was tagged in a Facebook post yesterday in Cancun. Drugs were clearly visible and the haze in his eyes confirmed he was participating in the affair. He hasn’t spoken to our dad since our mom died and his money was cut off shortly after. Mom left him a savings account like she did for me, but I know for a fact his amount wasn’t anything worth bragging about. He blew through it in weeks and when he told our dad that, dad told him he wanted nothing to do with him. I can’t say I blame him, but I can say at least I was propositioned with rehab. Dad didn’t even give Eric the option. I thought I was going down a poor path, but Eric fell headfirst with no redemption. I’ve tried on multiple occasions to help him, but my help has gotten me nowhere. I don’t even know where his permanent address resides. 

“Thank you,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand. He nods and exits the room. Part of me thinks of all the times I stared at these walls when my mom was living her last moments in this house. I want to believe the curse started once we moved into here, but I know that’s a lie. My mom was given the poor end of the stick, and now my dad pays the price for his infidelity. 

“We can stick around another week,” Liv says, and I take in a deep breath. Another week? That’s all she can promise me?

I bite my tongue. We will cross that bridge when we get to it, but now is not the time. She’s heard me call my dad all sorts of names and cannot stand him herself, yet I don’t think she understands that my family isn’t like hers. 

“Matthew,” I hear my old man call from the bedroom. “I’m not dead yet, so whatever you two are discussing, you can come discuss it to my face.” 

“Nothing has changed,” I reply, letting Liv’s hand go. He starts coughing just as I walk inside. “You’re stuck with me a little while longer,” I grin. I can’t tell if it’s sarcasm or the way I feel that I let surface on my face. It’s terrifying for me to think once my dad is gone, I truly have no one else left. At this point, I don’t even consider Eric a valid family member. I don’t speak to my distant family and yesterday proved I don’t really have friends. I only have Liv. 

“Well,” my dad states as his coughing stops, “I guess if I'm going to hell, I better spend my last waking moments in your presence. Come take a seat.” He points. “You’ve got a couple years of shit to fill me in on.” 

“Clearly nothing has changed,” I imply as I walk across the room. 

“Did you expect anything less?” he asks me, looking me straight in the face. Someone who was once powerful and daunting is now weak and limber. His appearance is of a ghost. I barely recognize him. I can only imagine what he sees when he looks at me. I assume it’s failure, but at the end of the day, I can’t say I ever failed myself. 

“I’m going to leave you two for a while,” Liv says at the doorway. “I’ll pick up dinner.” 

“Make it something worth my while,” my dad says as he rests his eyes. “Otherwise, it’s pointless.” 

Yeah, Dad, I really want to say. If it’s not benefiting you, it’s never been relevant.