Page 39 of Don't Go
Cade had already stood up. Theo didn't stop talking — kept Mom occupied, told a story about a track at Daytona — and Cade and I followed the doctor out into the corridor.
She walked us a few doors down, turned, lowered her voice, and didn't waste time.
"I want to be honest with you both. The treatment isn't slowing the progression as much as we hoped. Glioblastoma at this stage is aggressive. Your father was diagnosed late, and we are seeing a decline that I can't manage with what we have on the table."
Cade had crossed his arms. "How long?"
"I would tell you to plan in weeks. I'm sorry."
"Weeks?" I'd said it out loud.
"Mr. Cross, I know — "
"He looks fine."
She didn't contradict me. Instead, she let the sentence sit.
I looked at Cade. He was looking at the floor.
I looked at the door of my father's room. Theo's voice was coming through it, telling Mom about Daytona.
He had eaten half a bagel with seeds. He had given Theo the rolling-eyes thing about Mom. He had told Cade not to wait on the wedding. He had said his sentences in pieces, but he had said them.
He was still Dad.
Cade thanked the doctor, and the doctor left. Cade put a hand on my shoulder. "Come on. Coffee."
The cafeteria was in the basement, and the lighting was an offense against the public. Cade got us two coffees, and we sat at a table in the back, near a window that opened on a parking lot, and he put his cup down and looked at me.
"Beau."
I held the cup with both hands and didn't look at him.
"I want to say something, and I want you to listen."
He waited until I looked up.
"I wasn't close to my dad." His voice was even. "When he died, I hadn't seen him for two years. I had told myself several times that I was fine with that, but losing him wasn't easy. It wasn't what I expected. It won't be easy for you either. I'm not going to pretend it will, and I'm also not going to let you do this on your own. Whatever you need, whatever this looks like for you, I'm here."
I held the cup and didn't speak.
I hoped, for one half-formed second, that there wouldn't be anything for Cade to help me through. I hoped the doctor was wrong, that my father would simply continue. I hoped it against everything I knew because it was the only hope on offer.
Cade waited.
I tried to saythank you, to sayI know, and to sayI will.
I nodded.
He nodded back.
We drank the coffee.
I went up to the room one more time. Mom was asleep in the chair. Theo had gone. Dad was asleep. The TV was on low. His face under the blue light from the TV was thin and far away, and I sat in Mom's chair, held his hand without waking him, put it back on the blanket, and left.
I stayed inside the car in the parking garage with the engine off.
The garage was cold. The light was the orange light of every parking garage. I had my hands on the steering wheel.
