“Bye,” I said.
Chapter 3
After work, I stopped for a quick visit with my dad. Riverside Nursing Home was a 420-bed skilled nursing facility, situated in the Upper West Side of Manhattan, near Columbia University.
The elevator opened, and a smiling nurse greeted me at the nurses station. “Hi, Julia,” she said.
“Hello.”
“Love the ballerina bun.”
I smiled. “Love yours too.”
“See? It’s the perfect hairstyle for any female powerhouse. It’s feminine yet strikingly authoritative. How’s the world of fashion today?”
“Very…hectic.”
“What was on the agenda for today?”
“Designer jeans. We had some hot male models, with the most gorgeous bodies I’ve ever seen in my life.”
“Mercy! I’ll take that kind of hectic. Can we please trade jobs?” She leaned over the Formica counter and whispered, “The hottest body I see in here is Mr. Graves, and that’s only because he’s always got a fever and insists on taking his clothes off so he sticks to his wheelchair!”
I laughed. “Hot guys or not, I’d rather have a steady paycheck every week. So… How’s Dad today?”
Huffing, she closed the chart. “Stubborn as ever! I love that man to death, but some days…”
“Playing tough guy again, huh? Refusing his pain meds?”
“Uh-huh, and he needs more than pain patches. Can you talk to him?”
I pointed to myself. “As if he listens to me. That man has a mind of his own.”
She shook her head and chuckled. “You’re preachin’ to the choir on that, girl.”
I walked down the corridor with my heels click-clacking on the gaudy tile and my stylish skirt swishing from side to side. When I knocked on the door, my dad invited me in. “Hi, Dad!”
“Hey! I’m so happy to see you,” he said, raising the head of his bed up and shutting off the small television. “How was work?”
“Chaotic. My boss went ballistic on me. I had a dozen models at the studio, and two of my assistants called off. I did the best I could.”
“That’s all you can do, sweetheart. When life gives you lemons—”
“Yeah, yeah. Make lemonade,” I finished. “Anyway, how was chemo? Are you feeling okay?”
He shifted in bed, adjusting his white pillow. “It was a walk in the park. Also, you can save your breath.”
“Huh?”
“I know that nurse put you up to talking to me about taking those pain pills, but I’m not gonna do it. I’ve never needed them in my life, and I’m not gonna become a drug addict now.”
I squeezed his hand. “Whatever you decide, Dad, we’ll get through this together.”
He shot me a victorious look. “Right. I lost your mother, and I survived. I went through chemo, and I survived that too. Besides, once you’ve conquered Mt. Everest, there’s nothing you can’t do.”
“Hell yeah.”
I glanced at the picture on his dresser, the photo of him standing atop the famous mountain. He was much younger, wearing a thick blue coat, with his hood pulled up to protect himself from the harsh winter landscape. The view was stunning behind him as he held his arms high in victory. I knew he kept that picture beside him for a reason, to remind him of all the mountains he’d conquered in his life and to give him the strength to conquer this new one. For him, the mountain was a sign of hope, courage, determination, and a never-give-up attitude.