2

“This is your fault you know?” Eunice says from the front of the car. “If only you hadn’t wasted so much of my precious time doing something so little we would be at the clinic already,” she says for the third time, beating her palm on the steering wheel.

Looking down at my hands, I bite my lips wondering how this is my fault when it was them two who spent hours at the mall shopping for dresses because Monica insisted she needed something new and then we went back to the house for them to get changed.

While I waited, I had fallen face first unto my bed, my mind consumed by thoughts from the mall when I heard Eunice screamed my name. I hurried to her room to see a display of new garments spread on her bed her rage clear on her face. “What is this nonsense?” She snapped, pointing a finger behind her.

I had to confess about my fall at the boutique and that we had to bag the purchases for a second time. Fuming, she sent me to mop the living room and vacuumed the rugs until there wasn’t a speck of dirt left behind. The was the largest room in the house, taking up most of the first floor but I’d already gotten used to her punishments by now. Eunice preferred to make me do chores whenever I displease her though we have two servants hired for those. Other times she sends me to my room without dinner. Though I observed she saves her harsher punishments for when dad is absent.

By the time I was done, I went back upstairs to find Monica curling her hair so we had to wait for her to be done before finally leaving for the hospital it took at least another twenty minutes. 

 “This is a waste of time” Eunice complains once more as she maneuvers through New York’s bustling traffic the diver of the white sedan behind us beeps his horn several times when Eunice makes another illegal turn without indicating. 

She is another reason I don’t like being driven, but knowing it would make Dad happier if we arrived together, I opted to come with them.

“It's quite late, I don’t think we’ll make it before visiting hours close of the day” Monica whines in the passenger seat slicking her manicured nails to get a better look at them in the light.

I look out the window for the rest of the ride, we pull into the parking lot with some minutes to spare, I walk behind them as we are greeted at the reception and get visitor's tags, as this is not a first visit, we already know our way to dads’ room so they don't offer to guide us. The elevator ride was quick and soon were at the ICU. 

“I’m getting really tired of making this trip, can he just die?” Monica whined. If I was brave, I’d smack her at the back of the head and tell her to shut the heck up.

Eunice taps her on the shoulder, her dozen gold bracelets and rings clicking with each movement on her wrist, “Soon my dear” The two of them share a knowing look and giggle. 

Used to their antics by now I walk around them and open the door to Dad’s private room after knocking.

I can never understand how anyone can be so insensitive, and heartless even, since dad was diagnosed with lung cancer three months ago they’ve all but given up on him. But they are all too happy to spend his hard-earned money, shopping away, always wanting to look their best as they are now, as though we were going for a party, and not a visit to the ICU.  

The sight of him always hits me hard. 

My father, a proud strong man, reduced to a shell of himself. 

His eyes blinked open at the sound of the door.

He looked pale, his once tanned skin now looked bleached of blood, and the skin around his eyes looked reddish.

“Hi Daddy” I say softly.

“My girl” he smiles a tired smile. The kind that doesn't reach his eyes and I know what it is, the smile of a warrior at a losing battle.

When the tests results came out, Dad did everything he could to fight it, chemo, therapy, a number of them still undergoing research and were conducted under the table, but his body just kept rejecting the treatments, I moved back home and we were determined to meet more doctors, explore foreign treatments, we even met a gypsy who swore to have the cure of cancer in her special tea. And one night, Dad called a meeting. 

I am tired, he had said.

And that was it. 

He just stopped fighting.

I begged him, cried, and spewed threats. But nothing would change his mind.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to forgive him for that, giving up.

“Thank you all for coming,” Dad says when Monica and Eunice finally make their way into the room.

“You know how the smell of hospitals makes me nauseous David” She takes a seat on one of the couches at the far side of the room, crossing her legs at her ankles, her clutch in her lap. Monica ever the mini-me of her mother copies her position. 

I sit on the chair beside the bed, taking Dad’s hand in mine, my watery eyes hold his and my gaze begs him to fight. 

I receive another sad smile in response.

Dad cleared his throat tiredly, trying for another smile. “As you all know I don’t have much time, every day I lay on this bed I think of the things most important to me, my beloved wife,” he looks at Eunice “My girls” another sad smile at me and Monica who is now on her phone. “I wished I could have had more time, travel together, go on vacations, and be a family you know?” he goes on and I start crying. 

He can’t be dying.

How can he be dying?

At fifty-five years of age, he should still be in his prime. But looking at him now he seemed to have aged twenty years in a span of months. 

“My only regret is that I won’t watch you girls achieve your dreams and be the women I know you can be, like I achieved mine” His fingers tightened around mine, “You, and the company, are my life, my legacy. To see that slip through my fingers is more painful than any cancer, and so my daughters, I ask you to join hands with my associate, keep the company in the family, so that long after I’m gone, I know you will be taken care of” 

Sniffling silently behind my palm, it’s Eunice who asks “What do you mean? I thought the board agreed to sell, have you found a buyer?” her voice gets higher in excitement. 

I guess now would be a bad time to say that I don’t care about the company and I just wanted my father to live.

Dad’s eyes tighten when he opens them, they look red, “We must keep Morgan blood within the company, you are both beautiful and young, I will not force either of you or ask were it not my last resort, one of you will marry the new owner”