The ache eases.
“You’re my new nurse.”
And it’s back.
He places his tray on the chair beside his bed. “That sandwich made me tired. I’m gonna close my eyes for a bit, okay?”
“Okay.”
Remembering the laundry I told Mrs. Palma I would handle, I grab the hamper out of his room and head to the basement.
After starting the washing machine, I take the clothes out of the dryer and begin folding them.
I woke up feeling stupidly optimistic that today would be a good day, and he’d remember who I was.
But at least I get to see him.
Even though he’s a mere shell of the person he used to be.
And just like that, guilt overshadows my frustration.
This isn’t his fault. My dad never asked to have dementia and I have no doubt that if he had prior knowledge that this would happen to him, he’d be utterly heartbroken.
Just like I am.
I don’t have any memories of my mother. So, while losing her was hard in the sense that I never got to form a relationship with her…the things I grieve most are the experiences and memories I’ll never get to have.
But with my dad, it’s the exact opposite.
He wasn’t just my only parent…he was my best friend.
The man has been by my side since the moment I took my first breath and I have a lifetime full of memories with him.
Memories he can no longer access.
Given our memories shape all facets of who we are…seeing a man who looks like my dad but doesn’t act like my dad is a brand of psychological torture I wouldn’t wish on anyone.
No matter how tight I hold on, my best friend is slipping away—a little more each day—and there’s nothing I can do about it.
Every night before I close my eyes, I pray for just a few moments where he remembers that I’m his daughter.
But those are so few and far between these days.
After taking a few cleansing breaths to collect myself, I place the folded clothes into the basket and head back upstairs so I can put them away.
A dark, melodic sound fills my ears when I open the basement door.
It’s a sound I’d recognize anywhere…
Because it came from my soul.
CHAPTER 60
LENNON
I’m going to kill him.
Heart racing, I rush up the stairs as Phoenix belts out the last few notes and the song comes to an end.
I can’t believe the asshole had the audacity to go into my father’s room, put his grubby fingers on my father’s piano, and play him the song he stole.
I’m gearing up to run in there and kick him out, but what I hear next roots me to the spot.
“That was incredible,” my dad says. “Did you write that?”
My heart thumps hard in my chest.
“No,” Phoenix says softly. “Your daughter did.”
Regret and sorrow expand inside my chest until it becomes a crushing weight compressing my lungs.
I never told my dad I wrote songs. I didn’t think my talent ever came close to his and was convinced he’d secretly agree.
Then after Phoenix stole my song, I stopped writing altogether.
Now he’ll never know.
I’m building up the strength to go in there when I hear it.
“Lennon wrote that?”
“Yeah.” Phoenix exhales heavily. “She did.”
Excitement surges through me, and I rush into the room. “Dad?”
Smiling, he turns to me. “Hey, monkey face.” Confused, he looks around. “Aren’t you supposed to be at Dartmouth?”
“We’re on break for a few days, so I came home.”
He processes this for a moment before he speaks. “The song you wrote was terrific.” He winces. “Got a little vulgar toward the end there, but I loved it.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or cry because he’s here. “Thanks.”
“I’m proud of you.” A smile creases the corners of his eyes as he meets mine. “I mean, I’m always proud of you, but this…you’ve got something special.”
Embarrassment creeps up my cheeks. “It’s nothing.”
Phoenix gets up from the piano bench. “I have to head to sound check.”
Emotions swing like a pendulum inside me.
Stealing my song is inexcusable…but he just gave me the greatest gift.
“Thank you,” I whisper as he passes me.
My heart rate kicks up when he bends down and kisses my forehead.
“I still don’t like him,” my dad says after he leaves.
I half snort, half grumble. “I still don’t like him either.”