Dad’s voice grew louder. “I want a partner, not a patient. I AM NOT A NURSE!”
Jason’s eyes filled with tears.
Before I even thought about it, I ran upstairs to our parents’ bedroom. Dad stood by the door, wearing his expensive gray coat. His suitcase rested beside him.
He looked annoyed to see me. “Kelly, go back to your room.”
“I didn’t sign up for this.”
“Please don’t go,” I said, grabbing his sleeve.
Dad didn’t answer. Instead, he adjusted his silver Rolex watch as if he were checking the time for a meeting.
Jason ran up the stairs and grabbed Dad’s leg. “Daddy, Mom’s sick!”
Dad gently removed his hands, as if Jason were a stranger’s kid in a grocery store.
“I can’t do this,” he muttered.
An hour later, he was gone. The door closed behind him with finality.
“Please don’t go.”
