Marissa wasn't worried. Even though she'd been telling her Dad for two years to get his mole checked, she knew it probably wasn't metastatic melanoma. She wasn't sure how she knew, but she just did. But if it she was wrong, well, he was over 80 years old and had lived a good life. Not that she wanted to be callous about the situation, but in her line of work, she'd seen sadder stories than her father's.
"What else do you know, Dad?"
"Not much. They didn't tell me anything."
"Well did you ask for the pathology report?" Marissa shuffled some items on her desk, searching for Trevor's itinerary. He was due in from the airport this afternoon, and she didn't want to make him wait for a ride. If she wasn't mistaken, she'd need to leave soon, and therefore, she needed to quickly end this conversation with her father.
"No, I didn't ask for the pathology report."
"Why not?"
"I just didn't."
Marissa adjusted the phone against her shoulder and moved a piece of hair that had fallen into her face. She swallowed the words she wanted to say: Haven't I taught you anything? But she knew that her wise-ass remark would fall on deaf ears.
"Okay, Dad. Let me see what I can do for you. We don't know anything until we get the path report. But in order for me to see it, to help you out, you have to go down to the doctor's office and sign the paper that allows them to release information to you and to me. Can you do that?"
"It's only a mile away."
You didn't answer my questions, jackass. "That's great. So can you go?"
"I guess so. What do I say?"
"You ask for the release of information paper and then add me to it. Better yet, add David and Dominic, too. Then any of us can call and get information for you."
"Okay, Marissa. That's a great idea."
I know, she wanted to say. I'm full of great ideas, if you just listened. But now was not the time to take up an argument with her father. She had her hands full enough with her marriage and getting to the airport on time.
"Listen, Dad. I need to go."
"Oh sure. I know you do. You're always so busy. Sorry to bother you. See you soon."
As Marissa hit the End button on her phone, she realized something: she'd crumble under the weight of her marriage or under the guilt placed upon her by her dad. She just wasn't sure which one would get to her first.
(To be continued...)
"What else do you know, Dad?"
"Not much. They didn't tell me anything."
"Well did you ask for the pathology report?" Marissa shuffled some items on her desk, searching for Trevor's itinerary. He was due in from the airport this afternoon, and she didn't want to make him wait for a ride. If she wasn't mistaken, she'd need to leave soon, and therefore, she needed to quickly end this conversation with her father.
"No, I didn't ask for the pathology report."
"Why not?"
"I just didn't."
Marissa adjusted the phone against her shoulder and moved a piece of hair that had fallen into her face. She swallowed the words she wanted to say: Haven't I taught you anything? But she knew that her wise-ass remark would fall on deaf ears.
"Okay, Dad. Let me see what I can do for you. We don't know anything until we get the path report. But in order for me to see it, to help you out, you have to go down to the doctor's office and sign the paper that allows them to release information to you and to me. Can you do that?"
"It's only a mile away."
You didn't answer my questions, jackass. "That's great. So can you go?"
"I guess so. What do I say?"
"You ask for the release of information paper and then add me to it. Better yet, add David and Dominic, too. Then any of us can call and get information for you."
"Okay, Marissa. That's a great idea."
I know, she wanted to say. I'm full of great ideas, if you just listened. But now was not the time to take up an argument with her father. She had her hands full enough with her marriage and getting to the airport on time.
"Listen, Dad. I need to go."
"Oh sure. I know you do. You're always so busy. Sorry to bother you. See you soon."
As Marissa hit the End button on her phone, she realized something: she'd crumble under the weight of her marriage or under the guilt placed upon her by her dad. She just wasn't sure which one would get to her first.
(To be continued...)
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