I try so hard not to cry, but the tears roll down. My parents and I had a strange relationship from the beginning. I know they loved me. Adored me. However, during the week, their careers mattered the most. While they lived in Seattle, I stayed in Luna Harbor with my grandparents.
I try to suppress a sob as I think of my parents. If I learned anything from them, it’s how to work hard.
To love with all my heart.
And quality matters more than quantity. We didn’t spend all our time together, but when we did, it was perfect.
“I miss you,” I whisper, giving him a hug. “I miss Mom too. If you’re not planning on leaving, why don’t you just open your eyes? We’ll move you to Luna Harbor. We have plenty of room for you. You’ll meet my friend Siobhan and help me with the shop while I’m experimenting in my little lab.”
He still doesn’t say anything. I grab a tissue from the nightstand and wipe my tears. He needs someone to be strong for him, and that’s me.
I’m all he has.
“Enough about me. Let’s talk about your hair,” I say, grabbing the hairbrush from my tote bag and combing his hair. “You’re due for a haircut next week unless you want to go for a different look. Some men your age are letting their hair grow longer. Not quite Bon Jovi back in the eighties but also not as short as you like it. I don’t think buzz cuts are a thing for men your age.”
I stare at his unmoving body, wondering what he’d be doing if Mom was alive and he wasn’t living in a long-term facility in a vegetative state. He’s almost sixty-eight. They’d be retired and traveling wherever it’s not hot. Would they? Maybe not. My parents lived to work. Hence why they let Dad’s parents raise their only daughter—me. While growing up, I envied all the families in Luna Harbor who had more than one child, like the Cantú family. They had five children. Five. I loved visiting their house. It was always busy, filled with noise and love.
When they moved to Seattle, my heart broke a little, but I saw them during the summer and the holidays…until they never returned to Luna Harbor. How I wish they’d stay away. Before I cry again, I reach inside my bag and pull out the therapeutic balm.
“I added one ingredient to the balm. Let me know what you think,” I say while I open the jar and scoop a generous amount of it out with my hand. “The lavender scent isn’t as overpowering as it was in the last batch.”
I massage his left arm while I continue talking to him. “Did I tell you Mr. Cantú Senior is sick? It’s cancer. Mr. Matthews is moving to Seattle to be with him. The grandchildren are coming to Luna Harbor.” I pause, moving to the other side of the bed and scooping more balm. “All five of them. Straight from Siobhan herself. Can you believe she’s dating Iskander? In case you don’t remember, he’s the eldest. I warned her not to give her heart to a Cantú, or he’ll break it, but she’s not listening.”
I wait for him to protest, argue, or rush to Luna Harbor to tell her how dangerous it is to be in love with a Cantú. She wouldn’t understand. There’s no way she can see the damage Manelik Cantú left behind. After I shattered into a million pieces, I glued myself back together. Unless someone is looking closely, no one would know that I’m still broken.
There’s a knock on the door.
“Come on in,” I say.
The handle wiggles, and when it opens, Toni, one of Dad’s nurses, enters the room. She’s been working with Dad since Grandma and I moved him into this facility six years ago.
“Good morning, Nydia.”
“Hi, Toni,” I say.
She looks at my hands and asks, “Are you going to share some of that miracle balm with me?”
“Maybe.” I reach for my tote bag and grab the tub I brought for her. “Here, this is for you.”
“Aw, sweetheart, you’re an angel,” she says, giving me a side hug. “How much do I owe you?”
I wave a hand and shake my head. “It’s nothing.”
“You should sell it and call it the miracle balm. It’s not only the best moisturizer in the world but also my muscles aren’t sore when I use it. Plus, it helps me sleep.”
She shows me her elbows. “Feel this. They’re almost as soft as a baby’s butt.”
I laugh because I doubt it’s that soft, though the balm does help with the skin’s elasticity. It took me several tries to find the right formula that would help Dad’s skin.
Toni pulls something from her pocket and hands it to me. “Here, since you won’t let me pay, I’ll share one of my chocolates with you.”
“I can’t say no to that.” I wipe my hands with a towel and unwrap the chocolate.
“You’re a good daughter.”
I shake my head.
“Listen, I’ve worked here for years, and I’ve never seen someone as devoted as you. No one brings clean pillowcases, stays to read a story, or does everything you do. You spend hours applying the miracle balm on him.”
“It not only moisturizes, but it also calms and helps with the muscle stiffness,” I clarify, trying to stop her praises. I don’t tell anyone I call it my therapeutic balm. It’s just not ready to be in stores yet.
“I heard our girl is here,” someone says from the hallway, and a few seconds later, Nurse Belinda appears. “Yes, she is here!”
She reminds me a lot of Mom. She’s a hugger and a nurturer. I’m not surprised when she bends to hug me tightly. “How are you, sweetheart?” She touches my hair. “I love those waves, and I like those lowlights you added. They blend well with the natural dark tone of your hair.”
“Did you see her dress?” Toni asks. “It looks so comfortable.”
I flatten the skirt of the dress. “Thank you. You two always make me feel better about myself.”
“Did you make this one too?”
I shake my head. “No. I don’t make my clothes that often, only when I find a nice fabric. It’s not hard to make a maxi dress or a long flouncy skirt.”
“It’s not hard for you,” Toni says, showing me her hands. “You’re crafty. I have two left hands and no energy to sew a button—let alone make a dress.”
I only smile because there’s not much I can say other than it keeps me busy, and I can make something that isn’t too restrictive. Unlike many people, I prefer to dress for comfort and not for fashion.
“It’s fun to sew,” I say.
“How was the ride from Luna Harbor to Seattle? That’s a long trip, almost three hours. You might as well live in Canada, girl,” Belinda says. “Last Saturday, I was telling my husband to take me to Luna Harbor. However, when he explained to me that the trip would take more than two hours, we agreed to wait until our next planned vacation.”
“It’s long, but I enjoy it.” The almost three-hour trip doesn’t feel like too much for me. Not when the price is to see Dad and spend some time with him. He’s the one who knows most of my secrets. Not the ones that might make him sad, but I can talk to him about the farm, the shop, and how I’m growing my business.
I dig into my tote and pull out a bag with lavender lollipops. “Here, for your grandchildren—and you.”