Page 62 of The Work Wife

“You lied when we were down there?” Wes found a spot and pulled over.

“I didn’t lie exactly. I answered all her questions truthfully. It’s not my fault she didn’t ask direct questions.”

“She asked if your checkup went well.”

“It did go well. I got there on time. I didn’t have to wait too long to go back. The nurse who took my blood pressure had a nice smile.”

“You know that wasn’t what she meant.”

“Yeah, well, for years I told her her Christmas presents came from Santa. Parents lie to their kids for their own good all the time. It’s one of the only perks.”

“Are you going to be all right?” This was the more important issue. Jamie would be able to forgive the man if he was around to forgive.

“Sure. I kicked its ass the last time and I wasn’t prepared. This time I know what will happen. I’m ready.”

Wes didn’t think anyone was ever ready for such a diagnosis, but he hoped Mr. Witmer wasn’t lying to him too.

“I start chemo next week, which is why I wanted to see her this week. While I still look okay.”

Wes pulled out on the road and drove to the office in silence. His brain was flitting through hundreds of thoughts all at one time, none of which he could verbalize. He shut off the engine and turned to look at his father-in-law.

Mr. Witmer looked pale and tired. It was no wonder Jamie was worried. She would know what he always looked like. Why had Wes convinced her not to worry? He felt like he was an accessory to the lie.

“We can cancel the trip to Jamaica and come down next week.”

Jamie’s dad was already shaking his head. He took a deep breath and then pointed to Weston seriously. “I appreciate the offer, but I won’t have my daughter drop everything up here, or miss her trip so she can come hold my hand. You can’t tell her.”

“You’re putting me in a really crappy position. I want to respect your wishes, but I won’t lie to my wife.” He might not know much about being married, but he knew firsthand that lying was not acceptable.

Mr. Witmer looked taken aback for a moment and then laughed. “I didn’t even consider that. Huh.” He nodded and then patted Weston on the shoulder. “That’s good. I don’t want you to lie to her either. I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. I just wanted to have some time with her. Without her worrying about me. Just us. Normal, you know?”

Ah, hell. “Fine. I’ll wait to tell her after you leave if you give me your word you will keep us informed from here on out. I couldn’t live with myself if something unexpected happened and she missed saying goodbye. Don’t let that happen, I beg you.” Wes knew how difficult it was to live with something like that. With words that were unsaid.

Mr. Witmer nodded slowly. “Okay. That’s how we’ll play it. I’ll have these last few days before she finds out.”

“No. Don’t say ‘last few days.’ That freaks me out.”

“It’s not my last few days. It’s the last few days before Jamie goes from being my daughter to being a walking anxiety attack. I just hate to see her so worried. The last time it caused me more pain than the fucking cancer.”

“Maybe I can help her deal with this somehow. So she doesn’t make it harder for you. You have enough to do.” A wave of panic went through him. “Please don’t die. God, I don’t know how I would get her through something like that.”

“I’m not going to die.” He sniffed. “Well, someday I am. But I’ll be damned if I let cancer get me.”

“That’s the spirit.”

The man was horribly intimidating. Death was probably afraid of him.

“If you don’t mind, I have another stop to make before we go home,” Wes said.

“I’m sure the lasagna will keep.”

Wes took the exit for the mall and found a parking spot as close to the door as possible. He was certain Mr. Witmer wouldn’t appreciate it if Wes offered to drop him off at the door. The man wouldn’t want to be thought of as weak. Which seemed ridiculous, but Wes would honor him by not fussing. Jamie would do enough of that for both of them when she found out.

Inside the upscale store he followed the signs to the personal shopper pickup area. The area was set up like a hotel lobby, with a coffeepot and warm cookies in a basket.

A well-dressed woman in a glass office came out to greet them. “Can I help you?”

“Yes. My name is Weston Archer. I asked to see a collection of suitcases.”