“Yes.”

“Good. Most of the time, there’s a good match in the family and we could store blood exclusively for your father. We’re rushing the results so we should know in a few hours.”

“I understand.”

After they get the vial done she asks us to stay close for the results in case one of us is a match. I ask a few more questions, and I pray I can be the one to help my father. I need to do something, and if giving blood will get him there, I’ll give every ounce I have.

“How’s the baby doin’?” Grace asks Angie, breaking the silence as we all sit and wait.

“Good.” She rubs her stomach. “I’m so glad we’re over all the puking and what not. This baby decided to make good on everything that satanic pregnancy book warned about.”

“Especially the mood swings,” Wyatt pipes in.

Angie silences him with a death stare, which makes everyone around them laugh. I love my sisters-in-law. Both of my brothers found women I enjoy being around. I nestle Grace into my side and kiss the top of her head. I was hoping my father’s health would stay stable.

For the last two weeks, I’ve been planning a big trip for us. She’s always talked about wanting to go to the beach. Mama has a friend whose daughter lives in Virginia Beach. Natalie’s husband, Liam, is a Navy SEAL and she’s visiting her family for a month while he’s deployed. She offered us their house instead of staying in some hotel. I haven’t seen Lee since she was eight. She and Wyatt used to be close when they were kids, but then they moved out of town and we lost touch. However, I’m not sure if we’ll get out there next week if Dad keeps getting worse.

“Take a walk with me?” I ask, needing to get out of this waiting room. She nods and we start down the hall. “I hate it here.”

“I don’t think anyone likes hospitals.” Grace holds on to my bicep as we walk. “Your dad is okay, though. He’ll get the blood, and then you guys can figure out a plan. I know it seems like it’s a lot, but I know if any family can find a way, it’s yours.”

“And then what?” I ask. “He goes through another round of chemo and we maybe get another month with him?”

“I know it’s not ideal, but you have to have faith.”

For the first time since all this came crashing down, I understand why he chose to not tell us. There’s no guarantees and what if all of this was for nothing? What if all that fighting only causes him to miss out on living his life because he’s too sick to leave the hospital. If he didn’t agree to fight it, he could’ve spent time with his kids and wife.

I think about the calls that I didn’t answer or when he asked me to go fishing and I blew him off. I’m so fucking mad at myself. I should’ve been there checking on him. He’s my dad and I can’t help but think about the wasted time I can’t get back.

We sit on the bench outside the entrance. I feel helpless, and that isn’t something I’m used to. “If we lose him . . .”

“You can’t think that way, honey. You have to be strong for him because he’s going to look to you.” Grace’s blue eyes fill with emotion. “You’re the oldest, Trent. You have to hold this family together.”

She’s right, but I don’t know what to do. If I push him, am I doing it for selfish reasons? No. It’s not selfish for me to want my father to live. There are things he has left to do. Like seeing Wyatt’s child, watching me finally stop being a pussy and marry Grace, go hunting again and bag the deer, beating up on the three of us when we fight at our annual fish off, and so much more. He’s the glue in this family.

He may not be the vocal one, but he’s the backbone.

“I can’t let him die.” My head drops into my hands.

Grace’s arms wrap around me and she holds me together. I’m not an emotional person by nature. I think my job has forced me to always keep some barrier between me and my feelings. It isn’t as if I work in a big city riddled with violence, but I somehow think that makes it worse. Having to respond to a traffic accident or incident involving someone I know is far worse than one involving a nameless stranger. To do my job, I have to shut it all out. This, though, this is unlike anything I’ve ever felt.

He’s my father.

And I’m going to lose him.

Grace and I head back to the waiting room, and the doctor is there waiting. “Trent, good. I have the lab results.” He holds the papers in the air.

“Are any of us a match?” I question.

“Wyatt is the closest match, so we’d like to get him started first. Zach is the next best option.” The doctor extends his arm as Wyatt steps forward. “Go ahead with the nurse and she’ll get you ready.”

Zach goes back to his seat, and I move toward the doctor. “Doc? Was I not a match?” I ask.

“Your blood type isn’t a match, so unfortunately you won’t be able to donate.”

“I see.” I hate that I can’t contribute in any way. “So, Wyatt will donate and if need be Zach will also? Is that the next step?”

“Yes.” He nods. “Your mother is also a possibility, but she doesn’t carry the same antibodies as your brothers.”

“Well, I’m glad some of us can help.”

“Trent?” He pauses and then shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m going to check on your dad, and I’ll be back with some answers once we start the transfusion.”

“What did you want to say?”

“Nothing, son. I need to get back there.” He drops what’s supposed to be a reassuring pat on my shoulder and walks away.

I had hoped I could do something. The sitting around and waiting is driving me crazy. I want to help, go get a new doctor, find a treatment plan, donate blood, or anything at this point.

“You okay?” Grace asks as I watch the doctor walk down the hall.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m glad you’re here.” We sit so her head rests on my shoulder and I start to calm a little.

“There’s nowhere else I’d be.”

“I should go check on my father,” I say, trying to keep my shit together.

“Okay, honey.”

We walk through the doors, and Grace heads to the waiting room to check if anyone needs anything. Wyatt is still getting his blood drawn, Zach is still in the same fucking chair, and my mother is with Dad.