Greatest Love Story

Chapter Two

Sang pulled up to the farm house just as the front door opened. Her nerves were frazzled from the situation on the road right until she hit the driveway toward home, where those nerves melted away and dread began to crawl along her skin.

Throwing her car into park, she stared up at the front deck of the farm house. There stood Pa, arms crossed, a forbidden scowl playing at the corners of his lips. He was wearing a tattered old flannel that he's had for years, paired with dark jeans that were luckily dark enough to hide the dirt stains. Even his cowboy boots were the same ones she gifted him for Christmas several years back.

While his clothes were the same, his body and appearance wasn't. Sang saw the way his body slumped, like gravity and God were working hard to do their jobs by putting him in the ground. His face had aged many years since she last seen him. 

Before she could stop it, a sob tore from her lips. Faster than she thought possible, Sang was out of the car, up the old, creaky steps, and latched onto Pa like his gentle touch was the only thing to keep her alive and breathing.

"There she is." Oh, God. That raspy voice floated through the air and wrapped itself around her. Home. This was home.

"Here I am." A hiccup came out as she desperately wiped at the tears soaking her cheeks. "Here I am," she repeated.

"About damn time," Pa griped, a small cough following. He leaned heavily on his cane and let out a loud breath. Concerned, Sang squeezed his other hand and reached for the screen door. "C'mon."

"No, let's take a seat out here. A breath of fresh air will do your old man some good."

Slowly, he made himself comfortable in a rocking chair on the porch. Settling herself down on the one beside it, she just stared at him, letting her eyes drink in his appearance, wondering when it would start to feel real. After a moment of silence passed she said, "I'm so sorry, Pa."

"Save your sorry for something you should be sorry about, dear."

She shook her head, finding it impossible to get rid of the lump in her throat threatening to choke her. "I should have came home sooner. I was selfish."

"Don't you start with that crap. You had a life to live and an education to earn. Do not apologize for that."

"But you're sick." Sang's bottom lip trembled as she said it. She roughly bit into it to get it to stop. It did, but that didn't help mask the tears that were gathering in her eyes. She didn't want him to see her so sad, so she turned her head and stared out into the grassy fields. The sun was almost down, and the pink glow in the sky was beginning to fade. She could spot cows in the pasture grazing on dry grass, but the distance and lack of light made it hard to see.

"That's true," Pa said. "I am sick." His voice wasn't sad. It was final. Her stomach plummeted and she began to feel ill.

"That's life, darlin. Don't you worry too much over it. I may be sick, but you won't be getting rid of me anytime soon."

"How long?" Her voice was choked. 

He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze, the skin rough and calloused from years of manual labor. "I repeat, do not worry about it. Now tell me all about the city, and don't you dare leave anything out."

So she did.

She told him all about her studies in astronomy, about the different foods and culture in the West. She told him every detail about the apartment she rented out with a friend. She even mentioned a few dates she had been on and about how the gentlemans out there have nothing on the gentlemans out here. She told him anything and everything that had to do with her life outside of Wayward, and he didn't let one word slip by unheard.

"I am so proud of you," Pa spoke thickly once she finished up. Nearly two hours had gone by. "Your mother would have been so proud of you, too."

Sang smiled sadly and stood up, grabbing his hands to help him up as well. "That's all I've ever wanted to hear," she said. "Now let me get some dinner started while you tell me all about what I've missed."