Chapter 5 - A FATHER’S SINS UNVEILED
By mid-afternoon, Nathan’s corporate apparatus had moved into the valley with terrifying efficiency.
Money cannot buy love, but it can buy immediate logistics. A flatbed truck arrived from Vail carrying cords of kiln-dried birch and oak that caught fire in the hearth with a clean, roaring crackle. Two commercial-grade ceramic space heaters hummed in the hallway, pushing the room’s temperature up to a comfortable seventy degrees. A local plumber, paid triple his holiday emergency rate, thawed the copper main lines and restored running water.
Dr. Harrison, an elderly country physician Nathan had secured through personal connections in the county, finished examining Eleanor in the back bedroom.
Nathan stepped into the hallway, pulling the bedroom door partially closed. “How is she?”
Dr. Harrison adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, his face somber. “Severe congestive heart failure, aggravated by hypothermia and acute stress. The nitroglycerin is barely keeping the angina at bay. Mr. Cole, she shouldn't be traveling, she shouldn't be lifting boxes, and she certainly shouldn't be caring for a nine-year-old child in an isolated cottage.”
“Can she be stabilized here?”
“For forty-eight hours, maybe. If she rests completely. But she needs a full cardiac evaluation at Denver General. If she has another ischemic attack like the one in the diner, her heart won't survive it.” Harrison looked at Nathan intently. “Are you family?”
“A friend,” Nathan replied.
“Well, friend, she needs long-term inpatient care. And that girl needs a legal guardian who can sign medical authorizations and school enrollments. If Eleanor goes into the hospital without a power of attorney or a designated guardian in place, Child Protective Services will step in automatically. It’s the law.”
After the doctor left, Nathan walked into the small kitchen. Sophie was sitting at the wooden table, coloring on the back of an old envelope with a broken green crayon.
“Mr. Nathan?” she asked, looking up. “Is Grandma going to heaven like Mama?”
Nathan froze. He leaned his hips against the counter, crossing his arms to hide the sudden tension in his hands. “The doctor gave her some strong medicine, Sophie. She’s resting.”
“People always say ‘resting’ before someone goes away,” Sophie whispered, staring down at her drawing. It was a picture of three stick figures: a little girl, an old woman with gray curls, and a tall man wearing a black coat.
Nathan felt an overwhelming weight settle onto his shoulders. He walked out to the front porch, the cold air stinging his face. He pulled his smartphone from his coat.
He scrolled past the dozens of urgent corporate notifications until he reached a contact he hadn't dialed in one thousand and ninety-six days.
*Andrew.*
Nathan hit the call button. He held the phone to his ear, his heart hammering against his ribs like an amateur boxer.
*Ring... ring... ring...*
*“You have reached Andrew Cole. Leave a message.”*
The mechanical beep sounded.
Nathan opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. What could he say? *I’m sorry? I was wrong? I finally understand that success means nothing when your home is an empty museum?*
“Andrew,” Nathan managed to whisper, his voice rough and uneven. “It’s your father. I’m... I’m in Silver Creek. You don’t have to call back. I just... I wanted you to know that I remember the chocolate bar. The one you left on my desk when you were seven. I ate it. I never told you, but I ate it.”
He swallowed hard, fighting back a wave of burning grief.
“I failed you, son. I know that now. And I don’t expect you to forgive me. But if you’re out there... please just let me know you’re safe.”
Nathan ended the call and lowered his head into his hands.
Behind him, the porch door creaked open. Sophie slipped through the gap, wrapping her small arms around his waist from behind. She didn't say a word. She just pressed her cheek against the heavy wool of his coat, offering the silent, uncomplicated comfort that only a child who understands grief can give.
May you like
Nathan turned slowly and knelt down, wrapping his arms around the little girl who had asked God for a father.
***
