18 years old
It had taken months for Red and Lizzie's relationship to mend. She hadn't completely refused to talk to him as it had when she first learned he was a criminal but she had been especially… cool towards him. He had missed her warmth and laughter when they spoke on the phone or when he and Dembe came to visit. He understood, however. It had been one thing to learn her father was a criminal, it was a completely new ball game to learn he was a killer. So Red exercised his infamous patience as he toed the line between trying to earn back her trust and convincing her how much of a very bad idea going into forensic psychology was. But his Lizzie was too stubborn and refused to listen to reason.
As he helped her pack her stuff to head off to college, he made one last ditch effort.
"Lizzie, what if one day you have to study me? I'm on the Most Wanted list, now. That'll make Thanksgiving rather awkward, don't you think Sweetheart? 'Oh hey dad, can you pass the stuffing? By the way, I heard about what you did in Sri Lanka.'"
"What did you do in Sri Lanka?"
"That's beside the point." His mouth turned into a small frown at having walked himself right into that one. Lifting her bunny up, he shook it slightly as if asking what she wanted to do with it.
"Put it in that box. I'll probably stuff it in the back of my closet but I want it just in case."
Red smiled at this, his eyes reflecting his fondness for her need to still have a stuffed animal to cuddle when in dire need. And with him as her father, that occurred much more often than he was comfortable with.
"But seriously Dad, stop. Can't you just… be happy for me? You're helping me pack to go to college. It's a big day! Can you just… not give me this lecture right now?"
As he watched her pick at the lint on her favorite sweater, Red frowned, realizing for the first time the hurtful effect his almost constant nagging on this issue has wrought.
"Of course, Sweetheart. I won't bring it up again. Scout's honor." Red put his fingers up in a mockery of a salute. Lizzie doubted very much that her dad was ever a scout. "And of course, I'm proud of you, Dear! My baby is going off to college! Columbia!" His voice turned jubilant, just like a proud father, as he walked around the bed to envelope her in a hug, which she enthusiastically returned, resting her head against his chest as she felt his fingers run through her hair.
"Don't ever doubt how proud I am of you, Lizzie. I've spent a large part of your life wishing I could give you the moon and the stars only to realize you're the damn sun."
Lizzie bit her lip as she teared up, sniffling slightly. "Inconsistencies in your astronomy, aside, that was the sweetest thing you've ever said, Dad." Lizzie said, pulling away slowly from their embrace to continue packing.
"Oh c'mon! Give your old man a break. If I had said that to a lady friend in a more… romantic setting, she would have been putty in my hands." Red smirked, hoping to get a rise out of her. It worked.
"Oh gross! Dad! Thanks for ruining it!" Lizzie shoved Red playfully on the shoulder, laughing as she shook her head. Red chuckled and they both went back to packing.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
19 years old
It was two weeks until Christmas break during Lizzie's Sophomore year of college. Her phone began to ring just as she was unlocking the door to her dorm. Juggling the keys in one hand as she fished her phone out of the pocket of her book bag, Lizzie flipped on the light just as she flipped open her phone.
"Hello?"
"Lizzie, where are you, Sweetheart?"
"What do you mean, Dad? I'm at school. I just got back to my dorm." Lizzie dropped her book bag on the floor, kicked off her shoes, and flomped onto her bed.
"Oh good. Come outside, Dembe and I are waiting in the parking lot out front. I'll take you for coffee!"
Lizzie could tell something was off. His attempts to sound cheerful fell flat.
"Uh, yea. Okay. Let me just put my shoes back on."
Hanging up, she did just that, threw on her coat, and rushed down the stairs, heading out the front entrance she immediately spotted a Mercedes which she assumed was the new car of the week. Opening the back door, she climbed in.
"Hey Dad. What's up?" She leaned in for a quick hug before putting her seatbelt on, greeting her brother in the rear view mirror with a smile with a smile which he didn't return.
"Lizzie..." Red seemed unable to know where to start.
"Alright, I've learned not to like that face. That face says you're-not-going-to-like-what-you're-about-to-hear-and-so-should-not-listen-to-it-in-a-public-place-like-a-coffee-shop. Dembe, can we go to Morningside Park instead?"
Red pursed his lips as Dembe simply nodded and began to drive. They sat in an awkward, anticipatory silence as they drove the short distance to the park. Dembe let them off at the curb and murmured to Red that he'd keep the car running. Getting out, Lizzie wrapped her coat tighter around her as she chose of of the walking paths on a whim and began to walk, leaving Red to catch up.
"Alright, it's too cold for anyone to be out here to hear when I inevitably get upset at what you're about to tell me." She took a deep breath, allowing the frigid winter air to fill her lungs painfully. "Let's hear it."
Red was quiet for a moment before he finally seemed to gain the courage.
"Sam didn't want me to tell you this, but I thought you should be prepared for when you come home next week." He stopped, unable to continue as he clenched his jaw, looking into the distance at nothing in particular.
"What Dad? C'mon, don't make me pull it from you."
"He has cancer, Lizzie."
Lizzie stopped walking and it took a moment for Red to realize she was no longer beside him.
"What?" She asked. Red turned back around to face her just in time to see the horror growing on her face. "For how long? What kind? Oh God—"
"Lizzie, he's going to be fine. The doctors are optimistic that they caught it in time and I've ensured that he has the very best of care." Red walked back towards her, placing his hands on her forearms in comfort, moving them up and down in an effort to help keep her warm.
"He's going to be okay?"
"Yes. It's throat cancer, they already operated and removed a good bit of it. They're confident that with some treatment, the rest will be gone as well. He'll make it through this. He's a stubborn old jackass."
Lizzie nodded at this, trying to absorb this news as she bit her lip, her hand automatically going to her wrist to rub the scar only to realize it was covered with her gloves and coat.
"Okay… I um, I can talk to my professors. I can go home a bit early. Maybe I can work something out—"
"No Lizzie, Sweetheart that's why Sam didn't want me to tell you. He knew you'd pick up and go. You have to stay here and finish your finals."
"God Dad, Pop has cancer! I think this is a little more important!"
"He'll still be there when you come back in a week!"
Lizzie's jaw dropped in horror though it took Red a moment to realize what he'd said.
"No! Shit! I'm sorry, Lizzie. That didn't come out right. I just meant that Sam has already made it clear he wanted you to finish out the semester. So you have to do just that." Red placed his hand on her shoulder, squeezing slightly. "He's going to be alright. And when you get home, you can show off how well you did this semester. Okay?"
Lizzie wiped the tears from her cheeks as she nodded. "Yea. Fine." She mumbled. Red sighed, pulling her into a hug and kissing the top of her head.
"Wait! You mean he was already operated on and this is the first time I'm hearing about any of this?" She shouted in consternation as his words finally caught up with her. Red just chuckled in response.
"Come on, let's go get that coffee." He said, completely ignoring her.
"You guys are so going to pay for this." She murmured angrily.
/\/\/\/\/\
"Hey Pop, how ya feeling?" Lizzie came into the living room where she found Sam stretched out on the la-z-boy, a quilt covering his legs. Sam smiled just before his body was wracked by coughs.
This was supposed to be him 'okay?' He looked like death! So weak and frail, his entire body seemed completely exhausted after his coughing fit.
"It looks worse than it is, Butterball, I promise. I had a round of chemo this morning. Tends to drain me a bit."
"A bit?" She asked hoarsely.
"I promise, I'll be fine. The docs have said that it's shrinking. And when I've got an off-day from chemo, I feel real good. You'll see. I'm off tomorrow. I'll be so perky and annoying — asking you about your grades and your latest boy, you'll be wishing it were a chemo day."
Lizzie sobbed at this, her composure shattering. "Don't joke about that, Pop. You can't joke about this."
"Aw hell, Lizzie. I'll be fine."
