I raised my head as I heard the familiar clack of polished shoes on wood. Like so many times before, my mind immediately went to the days of my childhood where I snatched Dad's shoes and danced my heart out trying to perform some tap. Those attempts ended when humiliation replaced cheerfulness. One of those shoes that had been far too big finally rocketed off my tiny toes and smashed Mom's nose. She laughed it off and complained more to Dad about why he felt the need to have footwear with such hard soles, but my tap dancing days were done.
"Hey, Crys. Feeling any better?" Dad asked as he rounded the corner. He was already hovering over me with a sympathetic smile before I could answer.
"Yeah. This new medicine is working a lot better than the other ones have. I'm still feeling a bit weak and unsteady though. Kinda cold too. Part of me wants to turn the fireplace on, but it's summer. That seems like it's a bit much," I smiled.
"I can help you if you don't mind some cuddles."
"How could I ever turn down cuddles? Just as long as you don't mind getting your clothes wrinkled."
"Bah, what's a few creases?"
I scooted over for Dad to settle down next to me. The couch was a lot less manageable than it used to be when my crashes happened when I was little, but Dad refused to admit this old loveseat might not contain us for much longer. He snuggled me tight, and I closed my eyes relaxing into his secure hold. Too many times I'd ended up in the hospital because of my anemia. Him and Mom making sure to always be there with a warm hug was a gift I would never forget.
