Becoming Beth by Meredith Appleyard

Author:Meredith Appleyard
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQ Fiction
Published: 2022-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

31

Dad slept in on Saturday morning. Hardly noteworthy except that I’d never known him to sleep in ever before. He was always up with the sun, no matter the season.

With a cold ball of dread in my stomach, I tapped on his bedroom door. A muffled voice came from within. I sagged, then opened the door. The room was bright with sunshine and Dad was lying there, awake, an arm propped behind his head.

‘I’ve brought you a cup of tea,’ I said, relief fizzing through me, leaving me lightheaded. I set it on his bedside cupboard. ‘You’re always bringing me one. Are you okay?’

‘Felt a bit tired, is all. No Rocket this morning so I decided to lie in.’

‘Not like you, Dad. Are you’re sure you’re all right?’

‘Just feeling my eighty-four years. I heard you come in last night.’

‘Sorry if I woke you.’

‘I aim not to go to sleep until I know you’re safely home. Always have done. The same with Simon and Michael, until you’d all left home.’ Dad levered himself up in the bed and reached for the tea.

‘And here I am, back again.’

Dad sipped the tea. ‘No Shirley this morning?’

I wandered to the bedroom window. ‘James is up for the weekend. But in my opinion she’s doing very well. I’m going to suggest going in every other day.’

‘She would appreciate your company. Perhaps more than she appreciates the chores you do for her. I’ve pondered on what it’d be like to live here on my own … It’d be extremely lonely. One wonders why any person should have to live out their last years on their own.’

With a sense of foreboding, I drew back from the familiar view outside the window. How many times had I gazed out across the roof of Dad’s ute and through the gap in the carport lattice to the neighbour’s side fence while Mum snored or spluttered in the bed behind me? I shivered.

‘Do you think Mum thought you’d die before her? You know, given that statistically women live longer than men, and you were several years older than her.’

‘It’s not something we ever talked about,’ he said. He was sitting on the side of the bed, his back to me. I could clearly see the bony angles of his shoulder blades through the thin cotton pyjamas. ‘With that said, she did organise for us to make our wills and advanced care directives a few years ago. It certainly wasn’t me who drove that process.’

‘But that was who Mum was, in a way. Everything under control, i’s dotted and t’s crossed … As little as possible left to chance.’

Dad reached for his dressing gown, and with a rush of embarrassment I realised that here I was, blithely invading his private space.

‘I’ll go get breakfast ready,’ I blurted and sped from the room, pulling the door closed behind me. I wasn’t sure if I heard him chuckle.

***

We were halfway through our toast when Dad looked up and said, ‘You know, when it all boils down, marriage is about companionship and looking out for each other as you age.

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