Broken Promises (Broken Series) - By Dawn Pendleton Page 0,1

abhor. I wasn’t used to watching television; my bedroom didn’t even have a TV. My roommates each had one in their rooms, and they demanded we keep one in the living room, but I just didn’t see the point. I’d much rather read or go outside. So I’d relented to them, choosing to spend my spare time exploring the city.

Boston was huge. There was always something going on or some new place to discover. The only downfall was that even in a city with hundreds of thousands of people, I felt continually alone. Maybe it was time I came home, regardless of Dad’s condition. I could finish my degree online. The university certainly wouldn’t object considering my situation. I could move back into my room at Dad’s house and call up a few of my girlfriends from high school.

Spending the summer in Casper would be good for me. I was trying to talk myself into it. I knew I would probably hate it, but it didn’t matter. I would stay. For Dad. I looked over at him and smiled. He was already asleep, the book and pen lying haphazardly on his chest. I leaned over him and moved them to the table next to his bed.

A nurse appeared in the doorway and waved at me to draw my attention.

“Miss Wells?” she asked.

When I nodded, she motioned me to follow her. I gave my dad another glance and then got up. She didn’t speak again until we were in the hallway, several doors down from my dad’s room.

“Has your father told you about his release?” the nurse said.

“No, not really. He doesn’t really want to talk about the cancer. He just wants to discuss the funeral,” I said.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. Mr. Wells has been in a lot of pain, and although he doesn’t complain, he will need a higher dosage of pain medications at home, over the course of the next few weeks as his pain increases. We need to make sure, though, that he has someone with him at all times, as the medications will make him a bit unstable, physically,” she explained.

“That’s not a problem. I’ll be here for the entire summer. Longer, if necessary.”

“Great. He already has a hospice service lined up, so he’s good that way. And providing he doesn’t take a turn for worse overnight, we’re prepared to release him into your care first thing tomorrow morning.”

Which meant there wasn’t anything more the hospital could do for him. He was living on borrowed time now. I nodded at the nurse and asked her to let my dad know about the release. I needed a drink from the café. When she turned back toward Dad’s room, I raced down the hallway toward the bathrooms on that floor.

I barely made it into the first stall before I heaved up my breakfast. It was like someone turned on a switch and everything came to light. My dad was coming home to die. It was so unfair. What was I going to do without him? My life was going to be so … empty.

I stayed in the bathroom for several minutes, waiting until my stomach settled a bit before I made my way back to his room. I entered quietly so I didn’t wake him. To my surprise, he was already wide-awake.

“Did you hear? I get to go home!” he exclaimed. His cheeks were pink with excitement.

I couldn’t help but smile. Maybe going home would be the very best thing for him. He might even get better. He could overcome the cancer, maybe.

“I heard. Do you have clothes to wear home?”

“Actually, no. Can you drive out to the house and get me some? I want to look my best when I leave this place,” he announced.

“Sure. Tell me what you want,” I said, jotting down which jeans and t-shirt he wanted and where they were in his room.

“Don’t come back until dinnertime, Mal. Get your stuff unpacked a bit before I come home,” he suggested.

I had to agree. I hadn’t had a shower in two days; I desperately needed to freshen up at the house.

“Sure. I’ll bring you dinner,” I said.

“No way, I’ve already got someone bringing dinner at six. I’ll see you then,” he said.

He brushed me off, but I gave him a hug and then left, recognizing there was no way I would change his mind.

I made my way to my car, a recent purchase, and newer model Chevy. I turned the ignition and took a