“I understand, honey,” he’d said. “Stay where you are. What would we do if you were here? You’d just be sitting next to an old man, driving your mother crazy.” His voice was thin and weak but she could hear it swell with pride. “Watching you on TV is the best medicine. It gives me peace to know you’re going to be on the North Lawn soon. Here, talk to Cronkite.” And Natalie had laughed as she heard the panting of her father’s dog fill the line.

Her mother’s voice interrupted, her tone hushed. “He’s fading fast, Natalie. You should come home. Your sister is spending a lot of time here with the baby.”

“But Dad just said—”

A long pause. Then the formal tone, knife-edged with disapproval. “Well. It’s your choice, of course. Let us know what you decide.”

There had been so many similar dialogues with other people over the years, so many missed dinner-and-a-movies, missed friend’s weddings, Thanksgivings, New Year’s Eves. Not as intense, but always played in the same tune. It felt like a form of emotional jujitsu, using the dedication and ambition that had gotten her that far against her.

Andrea was holding out a long time with Bibb, not giving in to the pressure, Natalie noted with admiration and a pang of shame. She had caved every time. Even at the very end.

“I’ll see you on Friday,” was the last thing she’d told her dad, and it had turned out to be a lie. She hadn’t meant it to be. He’d held on, her mother told her, two days longer than anyone thought he could, waiting for her. But not long enough for Hurricane Leon to spell itself out so she could get there.

Don’t give in, Natalie wanted to shout to Andrea. Go be with your dad. Nothing they promise or threaten is as important.

But she knew it wasn’t entirely true. You gave in, she chided herself, and look where you are. Right where you wanted to be.

Or almost. Temporarily.

“Of course we’ll need to know as soon as possible so we can have someone take over for you,” Bibb was saying into the phone. “Don’t worry, it will be someone wonderful, someone just as good as you.” Bibb was playing the we-can-replace-you card. That was the closer; it always worked. “What...!” Bibb chirped, sounding delighted. “You think so? You’re a trooper! Absolutely, we can do that.” Bibb was now magnanimous. “One or two more days here with Ryan and then off you go to see Dad. I bet they can even wait to start the morphine. What difference can a day here or there really make?”