by Kelly Dekker

Created on: August 10, 2008   Last Updated: September 25, 2008

She was just getting ready for bed when the phone rang. Andy counted the number of rings as she padded through the kitchen with bare feet. It was never for her anyway; in fact; she wasn't even going to answer.

"Hello?" There was hesitation in her voice.

"Rose?" It was her Uncle Don.

"No Don, this is Andy. Mom is at a meeting. She should be home shortly."

"Andy. Sweetheart." His voice grew soft as he spoke. "I have news about your father."

Andy instantly became aware of the knot forming in the pit of her stomach. Silence stretched between them as she waited for him to continue.

"I tried to call your dad three times today, but he never answered." I decided to go over and check on him, and when I did; I found him slumped over his desk...He wouldn't respond to me, so I called the ambulance."

An eerie calm washed over Andy. She remained silent, patiently waiting for any information he had.

"Andy honey, it's bad. He's at the hospital now. The doctors have to run more tests. They don't know what happened, maybe a heart attack or a stroke...I just wanted you to know."

"Thanks for calling Don." Andy noticed a familiar tone coming from her mouth. It was the same one she used when waiting on someone at the bank, - polite, courteous.

Andy hung up the phone and took a deep breath. She knew something like this was going to happen. Mindlessly she grabbed the notepad and a pen from the counter beside her and began to scribble the information from her uncle on the sheet of paper that advertised the local electric company in the corner.

It wasn't appropriate to tell her mother this way, but she didn't care. The energy simply wasn't there. When she finished writing, she set the note on her mother's bed and walked back to her own room.

Andy didn't consider going to the hospital. That would have to wait until tomorrow. She was tired. The only feeling gnawing at her was guilt, - guilt for not caring enough.
She had not spoken to her father in almost a year. He had mastered the silent treatment. Like always, she didn't even know what had offended him. There was never an explanation. He would go for months, even years, without speaking and then one day it was over and he would start talking as though nothing had ever happened.

A memory from her childhood flashed through Andy's mind. It was summer, and as she walked along the old country road of her parent's farm she would pick the wild daisies, pull the velvety petals one-by-one and say, "He loves me. He loves me not". That's how it was with her

• 1
• 2
• 3
• 4
• Next Page >>