I knock on dad's door to warn him that I'm here before letting myself in. He rolls his eyes. "What's the point of knocking, idiot?"
I grin at him and pass him one of the coffees I just brought from Starbucks. "Caramel latte with no sugar,"
"No sugar?" He whines yet takes the coffee anyway.
"Dad you just had another heart attack," I shake my head in disbelief. "Our personal rules have always been that you eat healthy for the next two days afterwards,"
"Fine," He takes a sip of the coffee and then moans in appreciation. "Yum. Any cookies?"
"No," I glare at him challengingly.
"Okay, okay!" He leans back on his bed and frowns. "No bad foods,"
After getting comfortable in the chair I stare at dad. "So why don't you tell me about this date you were meant to be attending,"
"Nah," He fakes sadness, over exaggerating a sigh. "I don't want to talk about it, it's over,"
"What?" I exclaim in shock. "Why is it over?"
"Well after you brought my necessities such as my socks, jocks and phone, I had an interesting phone call with her."
"And," I motion for him to go on with the story.
"Let's just say that she didn't believe I was in hospital," He smirks. "She was convinced it was my way of getting out of our date and accused me of being an extremist,"
I burst out laughing to the point where I'm actually bent in my chair slightly and clutching my stomach. Dad glares before finally caving and laughing along with me, his eyes brighter than I've seen them in the last couple of days.
After calming down we watch the TV above the end of dad's bed for a little while, both absorbed in NCIS. When the advertisements begin dad turns to me. "How's my boy?"
"Jaidyn?" I smile. "He's good. He wanted to visit you with me, but his mom made him go with the family to his Aunty's to see his new baby cousin again."
"I see. And how are things between you two?" He raises an eyebrow and I blush horribly under his gaze.
"We're good," I grin while remembering back to this morning. "We're really good, dad,"
"That's good, Mel," He stares at me for a long moment and I can tell he's deep in thought. It's one of the very rare times I've witnessed my dad be serious. He closes his eyes.
"Daddy?" I whisper.
"You know I'm getting older and sicker," He finally whispers, opening his eyes again. They're filled with sadness and love. "I'm so sorry to burden you with my illness, but I want you to know I love you so much Melissa,"
"Dad," I whisper as tears begin to fall. How did they get there? I quickly wipe them away. "Dad please don't-"
"Missy just listen to me," He takes a hold of my hand tightly and squeezes it. "You are the only accomplishment that I am proud of. Having you was the only thing that made me happier than I can ever remember being, and you still make me happy,"
"Oh, dad,"
"And I just want you to know that I'm so sorry for being sick," His eyes water and my stomach jolts. I think I'm going to be sick. "And I'm sorry for not being able to promise you that I'll be there for your senior dance, or for your wedding, or be around to meet my grandchildren,"
I close my eyes as sobs begin to rack through my body uncontrollably. His grip on my hand tightens.
"But a promise I can make is that I'm going to fight," He whispers and pulls me up and onto the bed with him. He hugs me into his side and I wrap my arms around him and cling to him for dear life. His familiar cologne and his warm hug makes me cry harder. "I'm going to fight my hardest to make sure I'll still be around to witness all of those things, baby girl,"
