Must Love Flowers(67)

Maggie left him to close his own door. He nearly slid off the seat and onto the pavement with the effort. Al made himself comfortable in the backseat. The Seattle traffic didn’t make the commute any easier. Nearly thirty minutes later Maggie pulled up in front of the family home and breathed a relieved sigh. Her father complained the entire way, insisting she’d purposely taken the wrong route. Maggie didn’t argue but rolled her eyes, aware that if she had followed his advice, it would have taken a full hour before they’d arrived home.

Knowing better than to help him out of the car, Maggie waited until he was out before she wrapped her arm around his elbow and led her father into the house. When Roy sank into his recliner, he exhaled loudly, as if this was his rightful place and everyone could leave now. He apparently wanted them to think he’d be perfectly fine without either of them.

Al claimed a seat on the sofa.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she told her father’s friend.

“Where you going?” Roy demanded.

“To pick up your prescription. I won’t be long.”

“Don’t come back without a Whopper,” he shouted after her, as Maggie headed toward her car.

When she arrived at the pharmacy, she had to wait to give the prescription to the woman behind the counter.

“Can you tell me how much this will cost?” she asked, almost afraid to find out.

“I’ll need to ask the pharmacist.”

“That’s okay, I can wait.”

The woman left and returned a few moments later and mentioned an amount that caused Maggie to blanch.

“Is there a generic option for this drug?” The generic pill was bound to be cheaper.

“This is the generic price.”

“Oh,” she said, and swallowed tightly.

“Do you still want it filled?”

Given no other option, Maggie nodded. “Please.”

“It will take a few minutes. You’re welcome to sit in the waiting area to the right.”

With her heart heavy, Maggie slumped into a chair, closed her eyes, and prayed. As hard as it was to admit, her father needed her. He would never be able to give up drinking without her there to encourage him. As much as she hated the thought of moving back in with him, it seemed the only viable option. One thing her father needed to understand was that once he was fully sober, he had to stay away from alcohol. If he was determined to drink, there was nothing more she could do; she had no intention of sticking around and watching him die a slow, painful death because he was too stubborn to admit he had a problem.

With her mind set, she waited until her name was called. She paid for the prescription and headed home. As she parked in front of the house, she couldn’t remember any aspect of the drive, as she was distracted by the consequences of her father’s illness.

When she entered the house, the first thing she noticed was her father sitting in front of the television with a beer in his hand.

“Al,” she cried. “You were supposed to make sure Dad didn’t drink.”

Al raised both arms in defeat. “I couldn’t stop him.”

Her father’s look was stubborn. “Told you earlier, I’m not giving up beer.”

“Yes, you are.” Maggie said, so angry tears filled her eyes. “I just forked over nearly seven hundred dollars for this prescription. That was my entire paycheck and now I have nothing. I worked hard for that money, and I refuse to let you waste it.”

“How much?” His eyes revealed his shock.

“You heard me the first time.”

His face crumpled and tears filled his eyes. “Why would you do that?”

“Why?” she cried. “Because you’re my father.”

He blinked several times and seemed to close in on himself. “I…I don’t know that I can give it up.”

“You can; you have to. There are places and people who can help you. If you promise to do your best, I’ll try to get you into a rehab center. You can’t do this on your own, Dad; you’re going to need help. I’ll do everything I can to help you, too.”

“I’m not an alcoholic,” her father insisted.

Maggie shook her head. “Deny it all you want, but your liver says otherwise.”

He lowered his gaze to the beer can he was holding. “I…I can’t, Maggie, especially without your mother and now you…”

He didn’t finish what he was going to say. He didn’t need to; Maggie already knew. “I’ll move back home,” she said, knowing that was the only thing she could offer that would convince him to give up drinking.

His head shot up. “You will?”

More than anything, Maggie hated the thought of leaving Joan, but she couldn’t see any other option.

A tear leaked down his cheek. “If you do that…move back, I mean, then…then I’ll consider it.”

“I’ll help, too,” Al claimed.

“How you going to help me?” Roy demanded.

Al stood up from the sofa, removed his tattered ballcap, and spoke as if stating a solemn vow. “I promise I won’t drink in front of you.”

Her father snorted. “A lot of good that’ll do.”

“Dad,” Maggie said, chastising him. “Al is your friend, and if I understood you right, you told me he’s your only friend.”