Page 114 of Fierce-Ivan

Her father made his way to the couch and sat down.

“I need things in order to stay down here.”

“The nurse said you can go up and down the stairs,” she said.

“When I’m steadier. I’m not,” he said. “I’m tired and a little loopy with the drugs.”

She didn’t think of that. “What do you need?” she asked. “Do you have paper so I can make a list and get it all?”

“In the drawer in the kitchen.”

She found it and came back with a pen, sat down and started to write things she knew he’d need from the bathroom; then he gave her a detailed list of the clothing he wanted.

“This is about five days’ worth,” she said. “The nurse said you should be weaned off those pain meds by then or need them only at bedtime.”

“It’s easy for them to say; they aren’t in pain. I think it’d be better if you could come and check in on me daily if you can’t stay here.”

“No,” she said. “I’m not doing it.”

“What?” he said. “You took care of your mother.”

“Because you didn’t give me a choice,” she shouted. “Now all of a sudden you need me and you think I’m going to drop everything. You’re not dying. You can see and hear and think and move around the house. One leg isn’t working. I understand that carrying things on crutches is going to be hard, so I’ll cut you slack there, but I’m not driving here daily so that I can bring you water.”

“How am I supposed to get a glass in here if I’m on crutches?” he asked, annoyed.

She’d used that as an example, but she could see he actually thought she’d do that.

“You know what,” she said, “I’m going to get your clothes. I’m going to bring your bathroom stuff down. I’m going to get you on this couch with a glass of water. Then we are going to make a list of food you might need to hold you over for a few days and then anything else can be ordered and delivered. I’m going to buy you a water bottle that can clip on your crutches. Or you can stick one in the pocket of your shorts. There are ways to make it work, but you don’t want to think of anything other than asking for someone to do it for you. Which is ironic since Mom never asked you for anything when it came to stuff like this.”

“You don’t know what it was like,” her father said.

“I do know. I was there. I lived it. She did a lot on her own and you know it. We needed to learn a new way of life and we did. It’s amazing how much she’s thriving and she is alone. So obviously you didn’t need to be there for her twenty-four seven like you accused her of and said you didn’t sign up for.”

“Please, Kendra. You live in the same house as her. She isn’t alone.”

“Make a list of food,” she said, tossing the pad at him once she ripped the page off of what he needed upstairs. She was too pissed to answer his comment about her mother and stormed up the stairs to get his stuff.

When she returned twenty minutes later, she thought she had it all. Clothes, bathroom supplies, his phone charger, his laptop and charger, towels, slip-on sneakers and anything else she could find.

She went to the kitchen and looked through his fridge and cabinets. She grabbed a small bottle of water and brought it out and put it on the coffee table next to where he was lying on the couch.

“The list?” she asked.

He handed it over and she left. She needed to get out of the house and cool down before she blew up faster and higher than a geyser.

It was more than an hour later she was back and putting everything away, leaving snacks out for him to reach.

She was getting ready to go and asked if he needed anything else.

“Not right now,” he said. “I’d like if you could stop over in a few days though to restock for me.”

“You know,” she said with her hands on her hips, “not once today did you thank me for anything. You’ve spent the time complaining and whining and telling me what you wanted me to do, yet you haven’t asked once if I could. You don’t know where I work. If I could take the time off. If I’m in a relationship. If I’ve got things going on in my life. Nothing. Not one word. You know nothing about me other than what you remember from years ago. And you think I can just come here like nothing happened? Like you didn’t turn your back on us because taking care of Mom in her time of need and your teenage daughter was too hard for you.”

Her father was staring her down like he always did. “Where do you work?” he asked.

She shook her head. No, thank you. Nope. He didn’t say that. Wanted to know where she worked after everything else she listed.

She wasn’t telling him because then he’d probably ask her to get him some beer.