The Act

•6•

My Dad has been a sensitive subject with me and my sister for as long as I can remember. She claims I've always been his favorite child and that she's made peace with it, but I believe otherwise. Emery's brought him smiles and laughs whereas as of the past few years, I've brought him nothing but disappointment and worry.

"Em," I start as we make our way out of the car. Emery's attitude laced eyes flicker to me as she shuts the passenger side door.

"I'm on my best behavior." She says drawing an imaginary halo above her head. It's not her behavior I'm worried about. Its more of the fact Emery doesn't have a filter when she speaks which can either be refreshing or...not so refreshing. Because of this, she and my father have gotten into a multitude of arguments over his care.

Making sure to lock the car doors, I pocket my keys and head into the patient care home. As the automatic double doors slide open, we are instantly enveloped in warmth. A sense of comfort washes over me at the familiar sterile smell that lingers in the air. The lobby, as usual, is silent as Emery and I make our way to the front desk located in the center of the room. As we approach the desk, a red headed woman glances up from her computer and gives us her best smile as we sign the visitors log. She then proceeds to hand both of us a visitors' badge, which I pin to the front of my shirt before heading down the hall to my right.

My father has been living with tuberculosis for as long as I can remember. There are days where I wish our father could live with us. It is then I think about the quality of life he'd have if he still lived with me and Emery. Both of us have demanding jobs, preventing us from being home with him if he needs us. We could get an in-home care worker, but at the end of the day we thought emitting him to a patient care facility–that could fulfill his needs appropriately and in a timely manner–would be best for him.

Coming to a stop at the door, Emery lifted a hand and rapped on the door with her knuckle. She then took hold of the shiny metal doorknob and opened the door. She stuck her head in first before fully venturing into the room. "Hey, Dad."

I trail in behind her, making sure to close the door behind me. I feel a slight ache in my chest at the sight of my father. He lays in a hospital bed, an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. I take a breath, biting back the concerned questions that want to make themselves known. My father has never liked to be 'fussed over' as he puts it.

Instead, I turn my attention to the flat screen TV mounted on the wall to my left. The slightly eerie Criminal Minds theme music plays as I make my way further into the room. My Dad loves this show–even though, half the time, he has no clue what's going on. When I asked him why he watches it, he claimed to like the action.

"You both aren't just going to stand there, are you?" My father questions. "No one likes a hoverer."

Emery takes a seat at the foot of his bed as I took the plush navy-blue armchair to the left of the bed. My sister had just started on the questions when I felt my phone vibrating in my back pocket. Slipping the phone from my pocket, I glanced at the caller I.D.

Damien.

"Uh," I stammered earning both Emery and my father's attention. As if knowing what I was going to say next, Emery's eyes widened as she gave me a barely noticeable shake of her head. She never liked being left alone with our father–something about not having enough to say to him. "I have to take this. It's a...work call."

Standing up from the armchair, I made my way to the door and stepped out. I pulled it closed behind me with a soft click before walking into the lobby. Tapping the green 'answer' button, I head the device to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hey," Damien greets through the phone. "I'm about to head into a meeting, but I have to ask you a question before I forget it."

I glance over my shoulder. "Okay."

"Have dinner with me tonight."

I froze, the question catching me off guard. "What?"

"Dinner. With me. Tonight." He repeated, amusement coating his tone.

"I-I can't." I stammered, racking my brain for an excuse. "I have a previous engagement with my...sister."

Just then, a crash sounded from my father's room. I whirled around to see nurse's rushing toward the door.

"Tomorrow afternoon then?" He pressed.

"Yes, sure," I hastily agreed. "I've got to go."

Hanging up the phone, I jogged over to my father's door to see two nurses helping my sister from the floor. Two more were at my father's bedside, attempting to get him to wear his oxygen mask.

"What happened?" I asked. Emery brushed the nurses off. From where I stood, I could see the storm brewing in her eyes.

"I don't even know why I try," She scoffed making her way over to me. "Even after everything that happened, you're still his favorite. You'll always be his favorite."

With that, she shouldered passed me and out ofthe building.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•
A/N:

This has to be one of my favorite chapters in this book. Although, we've still got a while on this journey with Damien and Avery.

Happy Reading,
Arctic