Chapter 56

Blindsided

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Brice (POV)

Months later…

It was just around eight o'clock on a Sunday morning when I awoke to my phone vibrating against the nightstand by my bed. I knew it couldn't be my alarm because Sunday was the only day of the week I was able to sleep in on. I rolled over in my bed and groggily answered my cell. After having stayed out pretty late the night before with my hockey buddies celebrating our win, eight o'clock seemed pretty early.

"Hello," I whispered, trying my best not to wake my girlfriend, Lyla.

"Brice," Nathan greeted. "Did I wake you?"

"Yeah," I admitted as I shuffled in the living room of my apartment in just my boxers.

"Sorry about that." He didn't sound too sincere. "I just flew into Seattle a couple of days ago and…"

"What's wrong?" I probed after he trailed off.

"Look, Bri, your dad, he's…. he's not doing too well," he said carefully, "I think you should come home."

I swallowed hard. I had been waiting for this phone call for a while. I had caught onto Dad being ill long before he and Mom had even thought about telling Sophia or I. I had gone to uncle Nate once I started to suspect something, because I knew he would be honest with me. It was then that I had made him promise to call me when things got bad.

"Bri?" he said after a moment of my silence.

"I'm here," I whispered. "Let me get things settled here. I'll be on a flight by the end of the week."

"Okay," he paused, "I'm sorry that I had to call you Bri, I just-"

"I understand," I cut him off. "Thank you,"

"Call me when you know your flight schedule," he said. "I'll pick you up from the airport,"

"Okay," I mumbled, "I will."

"And Brice?"

"Yeah?"

"I want you to call me if you need anything," he ordered. "Day or night, okay?"

"I will, Nate," I whispered. "Thanks."

We ended the phone call shortly thereafter. I sat down on the couch and put my head in my hands. Part of me had been preparing for this for months, but the other part of me felt completely blindsided. I didn't really know what to do with the information I had just been given. My mind began racing with all of the things I had to get done. Spring exams were starting next week so I would have to talk to my professors about taking them early. I would also have to talk to my coach and let him know I would be out from practice for some time.

"Brice?" Lyla called from the doorway of my room, "You okay?"

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," I got up and stalked into my room. "That was just my uncle…things have gotten worse with my dad, I have to fly home,"

I had been dating Lyla for almost a year now. She had actually spent this past Christmas with my family and I in Seattle. She knew all about my dad being ill. She also knew about the promise I had made with uncle Nate and what a phone call like that meant.

"I have to book a flight; I have to call my coach," I rambled as I paced around the room. "I should email my professors."

"Brice, Brice," she stopped me. "Sweetie, slow down."

"I can't, I have to pack my things,"

She stepped in front of me and cradled my face between her palms and looked directly into my eyes with her warm brown ones. I just began to shake my head slowly from side to side as a knot formed in my throat. I tried my best to swallow it away, fighting myself from breaking down.

"It's okay," she whispered ever so slightly.

For as long as I had been preparing for my father to die, she had been preparing to be there for me when I finally broke down. I managed to hold it together as I clenched my jaw.

She just wrapped her arms around me and I buried my head into the crook of her neck. It would have been an interesting sight to see; her petite five foot five stature, holding my six foot four hockey player build.

"You're going to be okay," she murmured.

She had lost her mom to breast cancer two years ago, so she understood what I was going through. I pulled back, composing myself.

"Thank you," I sighed.

"There's no need," she smiled ever so slightly.

"I love you," I whispered. It wasn't the first time I had said it to her.

"I know, and I love you too,"

She hesitantly released me from her embrace making sure that I was truly okay. I gave her a faint smile to give her some reassurance.

"I think I'm going to go for a run," I told her. "Just clear my head,"

"Okay," she nodded, "Is there anything you need me to do?"

"Just be here," I whispered softly.

She smiled, "Of course,"

I slipped on my running shoes after pulling on a pair of shorts, than I made my way downstairs and out of the apartment building. I ran far, farther than I usually would run. I ran up the trail that Lyla and I would usually hike. I ran to the highest point of the cliff that overlooked L.A. At the top I stopped to catch my breath. I doubled over resting my hands on my knees as sweat poured down my face. I stayed there long enough to catch my breath however not long enough to allow myself to think about my father dying. I wasn't prepared to deal with those emotions just yet.

I ran back to the apartment and jumped in the shower. I used cold water to cool off my skin. Once I was finished and dressed in a light grey V-neck t-shirt and dark wash jeans I made my way into the kitchen.

"Hey," Lyla greeted, looking up from her laptop at the small kitchen table.

"Hi," I mumbled giving her a kiss on the cheek as I passed her, and grabbed a mug from the cabinet.

"I just made a fresh pot," she informed me, referring to the coffee.

"Thank you," I said, fixing myself a cup. "Has there been any sign of Jared?"

"Only snores from his room," she responded. Jared was my roommate as well as a teammate of mine.

I nodded, as I grabbed my laptop from the coffee table in the living room and brought it to the kitchen. I sat down across from Lyla and began getting things in order. I emailed my professors as well as my coaches, than began looking into flights.

I didn't hear from my professors until later that evening. They all sent their condolences and said that if I was up to it I would be able to take my exams early. My coaches responded, within the hour of sending the email, sending their condolences as well and to not even worry about practice or hockey.

Before the night was over, I had arranged to take two exams in the morning than the last two exams in the morning on Tuesday. I would than fly out to Seattle on Wednesday morning. I was perfectly okay with taking my exams because I had already been preparing for them for the past couple of weeks.

Monday came and went and so did Tuesday. I wasn't too worried about my exams they seemed fairly easy. My professors said that they would be able to email me my scores by the end of the week, that way it would be one less thing to worry about.

"What time does your flight leave?" Lyla asked.

It was Tuesday night, and she was keeping me company while I packed my bag.

"I have to board the plane at nine," I said as I tossed a few pairs of socks into my bag. "I have to be there an hour early though."

I went to grab my dark grey suit coat and matching dress pants, when I hesitated. I didn't know how long I was going to be there for, and I was packing a suit, for my father's funeral.

"My dad's dying," I whispered, my back to Lyla who was sitting on the bed.

I couldn't feel anything, only numbness as I said the words. They didn't make sense. The words didn't seem to fit together correctly. 'Dad' and 'dying' didn't coincide. Lyla came up behind me and placed her hand on my shoulder letting me know that she was there for me. Than I turned wrapping my arms around her.

I finished packing my things in a robot state, than I went to bed with the same feeling. I couldn't seem to wrap my mind around the idea of my dad dying, even though I had known it was coming for months.

The next morning I awoke and took a shower, than dressed in one of my hockey sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. Lyla had made me breakfast however I didn't have much of an appetite. She drove me to the airport and I didn't say much. Once we got there she walked me in and waited while I checked in than we stood off to the side so we could have a somewhat private goodbye.

"You'll call me when you get there?" she asked. I had my arms wrapped around her.

"Of course," I said, not wanting to let go.

"I'm only a phone call away," she whispered, "and I can be on a plane if you need me,"

"I know," I smiled. "I love you,"

"I love you too."

I leaned down and kissed her softly on her lips before I parted to go through security. As I made my way though I turned and saw that she was still standing there making sure that I would make it though. I waved to her after I had made it passed the metal detectors, and tried my best to give her a reassuring smile.

I found my gate with ease, and then boarded the plane shortly after. The flight went by fast and before I knew it I was waiting to exit the plane in Seattle. I left the baggage terminal and stood outside craning my neck over the crowed to find uncle Nate. There was a think cover of clouds in the sky; the sun was nowhere to be found.

"Brice!" I heard him call.

"Hey Nate," I smiled, giving him a hug. "Thank you for picking me up,"

"No problem," he said, taking my bag and tossing it in the backseat of the car.

Once we were in the car and had merged onto the high way, I felt it was safe to ask about dad.

"How bad is he?" I asked after having gone through the remedial 'how are you?' questions.

"He's weak, and he's sleeping more and more," he sighed. "He still makes himself get out of bed a couple times a day, however he and you mom have moved to the guest room so he doesn't have to deal with the stairs."

I nodded and mentally prepared myself for what I was going to encounter.

"How are Soph and the twins handling it?" I asked.

"The twins understand that he's sick," he explained. "But I'm not sure they understand that he's…dying."

"And Sophia?" I asked.

"She doesn't come out of her room much," he said, carefully. "She's taking it pretty rough,"

I nodded, and before I knew it we were pulling into the driveway. I sighed as I got out of the car and snagged my bag from the back of the car. I made my way into the house and noticed that Nana Nicole and Grandpa Stephen's car was in the driveway as well.

"Hello?" I half whispered, dropping my bag by the door.

"Brice is that you?" It was Nana Nicole who called from the kitchen.

"Yeah," I smiled as I entered the kitchen, "it's me,"

Immediately she came over and pulled me into one of her famous hugs.

"I've missed you so much," she exclaimed as she squeezed me.

"I've missed you too, Nana," I smiled.

"We didn't know you were coming," Grandpa Stephen said as he pulled me into a hug, once Nana Nicole had released me.

"Nate called," I said, nodding to him as he grabbed something from the fridge. "He said… thing were getting worse."

Both of their smiles fell, right then and there, I knew things were bad.

"That bad," I whispered.

None of them replied. I didn't expect them to either. I just turned in the direction of the guest bedroom and headed straight for it.

"Bri, I don't-" Grandpa Stephen called after me.

"Stephen," Nana Nicole stopped him and they both let me go.

I paused just outside the closed door. Nothing could prepare me for what I was about to see, but I still needed a moment. I took a deep breath and nocked softly on the door before entering.

I swallowed hard when I saw him. It was clear that he had dropped a fair amount of weight since I had last seen him. There were think dark purple rings under his eyes and his skin was ghostly pale.

"Brice?" I heard Mom call however I paid no attention to her.

Every fiber of my body was telling me to turn around and walk out that door. But my feet were like cinder blocks and I couldn't move. I was right: there really was nothing I could do to prepare myself for this.

"Dad?" I finally spoke, forcing myself to step closer to his bedside where Mom sat holding his hand.

"Hey buddy," he tried his best to smile and act like everything was okay.

"I'll give you two a minute," Mom said, excusing herself from the room.

I hesitated at the end of the bed, unsure of what to do or what to say.

"Who called you?" he asked. He wasn't mad, just curious.

"Uncle Nate," I said.

He nodded and I slowly stepped forward to take the seat that Mom had been sitting in.

"Will you hand me that sweater?" he asked, eyeing the cream white zip up sweater at the end of the bed.

I nodded as I leaned down and snatched the sweater. He sat forward and I helped him slip on the sweater. My hands brushed his as I help him and I noticed how cold his fingers were. He settled back into the bed once the sweater was adjusted to his liking.

"How are things with you and Lyla?" he asked, trying anything to break the awkward silence that had filled the room.

I chuckled. "We're great," I smiled.

"Ah," he said, knowingly, "I know that look,"

"What look?" I asked, quickly trying to mask any facial expressions.

"Your aunt Lori called it my 'Amanda look'," he explained. "And now I see why,"

"You had an 'Amanda look'?" I couldn't help but chuckle.

"Three or four apparently," he smiled. "Now, I see that you have a Lyla look."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked.

"Not at all," he said, "It just means that you love her."

"I do love her," I clarified.

He continued talking. Providing any topic other than dying. I sat with him for almost two hours before he began falling asleep and I excused myself from the room. Before I left, I pulled the blanket closer to him and tucked it around him, just like he had done for me when I was a kid.

"I love you, Dad," I whispered before leaving the room.

Mom had gone to pick up the twins from uncle Josh's and to run to the grocery store. Nana Nicole was cooking dinner in the kitchen and Grandpa Stephen was helping her. Uncle Nate was doing some work in Dad's office.

"Soph upstairs?" I asked, as I made my way into the kitchen.

"I think so," Grandpa Stephen answered, looking up from the vegetables he was cutting.

"I'm just going to go say hi, I guess." It was strange that she hadn't already been down to greet me. She usually was the first person to tackle me with a hug when I came home.

"Maybe you'll be able to cheer her up," Grandpa suggested.

I made my way up the stairs and into her room.

"Can I come in?" I asked as I knocked on the door.

"Brice?" she called back.

"Yeah?" I chuckled. "Who else would it be?"

"I didn't know you were coming home," she exclaimed as she flung open the door and leaped at me with a hug.

"I just got here this afternoon," I explained.

"Oh," her face fell and all the excitement dissipated, "because of dad…"

"Yeah," I sighed. "I hear you've been pretty upset?"

"Of course I'm upset," she scuffed, sitting back on her bed, leaning against the headboard. "Aren't you?"

"To be honest?" I said, taking a seat on the edge of her bed. "I don't know what I feel. None of it feels real."

"It's not fair," she mumbled, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"No, its not," I sighed. "You know Soph, it's not his fault."

"I know that," she whispered sort of harshly.

"Then why won't you go see him?" I asked very calmly and softly.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

"I think you do," I countered. "It's okay to be scared, Soph,"

She was quiet for a while; I could tell she was fighting tears because her face was turning red.

"It's okay, Soph," I whispered, shifting to sit next to her and put one arm around her.

"I don't want him to die, Brice," she finally spoke, her voice close to cracking.

"Neither do I," I whispered. "You want to know something else?"

"What?" She mumbled.

"I'm scared too," I admitted.

AN: I don't really have too much to say. I hope you all, I don't want to say enjoyed the chapter because it was sad, however I hope that despite the sadness that it was worth reading. Anyway, let me know what you think!