The driver opened the door while Rachel helped Mr. Hamilton climb in. Their first destination was a small park near a slow-moving river. Upon stepping out of the vehicle, Mr. Hamilton gazed at the green trees and watched the gentle current.
They began walking slowly. My daughter and I used to come here often, he said, smiling faintly. We’d have picnics and she loved to float little paper boats in the water.
Rachel glanced at the river, where a few kids were indeed playing with paper or wooden boats. They strolled carefully, heading to the water’s edge. And with each step, Rachel felt the weight of Mr. Hamilton’s memories.
But she also felt glad that she was helping him revisit a place he once enjoyed with his daughter. Afterward, they went to an old ice cream parlor. I used to bring her here whenever she wanted something sweet, Mr. Hamilton remarked, watching the small shop.
They went inside and placed their orders, sitting by the window while waiting. Rachel noticed his breathing was a bit heavy. Dad, are you okay? she asked quietly, using the word he’d wanted to hear.
I’m fine, honey. Actually, I’m happy I get to hear someone call me dad again. It’s like I’m filling in a little of the void I felt from losing my daughter, he replied, smiling.
When their ice cream arrived, they talked about the good memories he had of his daughter. Rachel listened attentively, refusing to dwell on his illness. After ice cream, they headed to a bookstore, because his daughter had loved reading.
How about you, Rachel? Do you like reading? Mr. Hamilton asked. Once upon a time, yes, but now I barely have time, she admitted. Would you like a book, honey? he asked.
Dad, you don’t have to… she began, but he cut her off. I want to give you a gift. I want you to remember this day, Mr. Hamilton said firmly.
Rachel smiled. After a few minutes of browsing, she chose a title and handed it to him. Are you sure this is the one you want? he asked.
Yes, dad, she said. He paid for it, then before leaving, wrote a note on the inside cover. For Rachel, my child who brought light back into my life.
Reading it made Rachel tear up, though she tried to hide it so he could just enjoy the day. Before the day ended, they went to a big shopping mall. Rachel assumed they were just there to eat, but Mr. Hamilton led her into an upscale clothing store, telling her to pick out whatever she liked.
Dad, I don’t need expensive clothes, Rachel protested. Don’t argue, he said. It’s been so long since I got to shop with a daughter, let me experience it again, he insisted gently.
She looked at him and knew she couldn’t refuse. She picked a simple floral dress, but he wasn’t satisfied and kept insisting she choose more clothes, plus a bag and shoes. At the checkout counter, Mr. Hamilton was all smiles, as if, for a moment, he’d gone back in time to when he could happily spoil a daughter.
When evening came, they headed back to the hospital. In the car, Rachel stared out the window, feeling the day had passed too quickly. Just that morning, they’d been strolling in the park, laughing in the ice cream shop, shopping at the mall, then, in the blink of an eye, they were going back.
She noticed Mr. Hamilton’s breathing was shallow, so she glanced over. He smiled at her, eyes half-closed. Dad, she whispered.
Yes, my child, he responded, opening his eyes. Are you happy, sir? she asked, struggling to contain the ache in her chest. He smiled.
More than you know, dear, I’ve waited so long for a day like this. I never thought I’d feel it again. Thank you, Rachel, he said, gently squeezing her hand.
She returned his smile, trying not to let him see the tears threatening to overflow. She knew it wouldn’t be long until life took him away, just as it had taken her own father. When they arrived at the hospital, a few nurses greeted them.
Rachel helped him out of the SUV and guided him back to his room. As she fixed his bed, she felt her heart constrict. She couldn’t shake the knowledge that eventually, he would leave her, just like her father had.
When she’d finished tidying the bed, she turned to him. Dad, you can lie down now. I’ll be heading out, she said.
He looked at her and gently took her hands. Thank you for today, my child. I’ll never forget it, Mr. Hamilton whispered.
Rachel couldn’t hold back her tears. She clung tightly to his hands, as if she never wanted to let go. I don’t know how to repay you, Dad.
I’ll keep praying God gives you more days, she said, voice trembling. Mr. Hamilton stroked her hair the way a real father would. I won’t forget you, Rachel.
Thank you, he repeated, smiling. Her heart felt so heavy she didn’t want to leave, but there was no choice. His hands slipped from hers.
Wiping her tears, she finally said goodbye. As she cast one last glance from the doorway, she saw him sitting on the bed, gazing at her with a gentle smile. Only after closing the door did she break down, sobbing in the hallway.
She couldn’t keep it inside any longer. She grieved, wishing she could have more time, but there was nothing she could do. Early the next morning, Rachel entered the hospital in high spirits, walking beside Emily, linking arms as they chatted.
You wouldn’t believe how wonderful yesterday was, Em. Mr. Hamilton and I did so many things. He took me to the park, we ate ice cream, and even went shopping.
I really felt like I was his daughter, Rachel recounted happily. Emily smiled. You look so radiant, Rachel.
I bet Mr. Hamilton was just as happy. At least you got to relax too, Emily remarked, but as soon as they stepped inside, Ms. Carter appeared. Her face was grim, which worried Rachel.
Rachel, I have something to tell you, Ms. Carter said in a subdued voice. What is it, ma’am? Rachel asked. Ms. Carter took a deep breath and spoke.
Rachel, Mr. Hamilton is gone. What do you mean? Rachel froze as though weighed down by a heavy, invisible force. She blinked, unable to grasp her meaning.
He passed away last night. He had a heart attack in his sleep. But please take comfort.
He went peacefully, Ms. Carter said sadly. For a moment, Rachel couldn’t speak. All the happiness she felt disappeared, replaced by heartbreak.
No, that can’t be true. She shook her head in disbelief. Her tears fell before she could hold them back.
She backed away. That’s not true. We just talked last night, she cried.
She bolted down the hall, ignoring Emily and Ms. Carter calling after her. She raced to Mr. Hamilton’s room, but it was empty, silent. Everything had been tidied up.
With trembling knees, she sank onto the bed and clutched a pillow, sobbing uncontrollably. Emily quietly entered moments later, gently embracing her from behind. Rachel just cried, unable to accept the truth, that the man who had made her feel a father’s love again was now gone.
She closed her eyes, tears streaming down her cheeks. Despite Emily’s comforting presence, she felt a deep, raw pain in her chest, reminding her she would never see Mr. Hamilton again. That first night of Mr. Hamilton’s wake, Rachel went to his large home where his viewing was taking place.
His casket was white, surrounded by white flowers. When she stepped closer to see him, she started crying. Anew.
Next to the casket was a youthful photo of Mr. Hamilton, far different from the frail man she’d known in the hospital. There were only a few people there, a couple of the old man’s friends, some household staff, and the driver who had driven them around the day they spent together. Then came the day of the burial, with only a small gathering present.
Rachel couldn’t believe that so few people were there to bid him goodbye. She could only imagine the loneliness of his life. Still, she felt honored to have brightened his last days.
As the coffin was lowered into the grave, Rachel stood at the edge, tears streaming down her face. She let them fall freely. There was nothing else she could do but accept that he was gone.
She knew he wasn’t really her father, and she knew they’d only pretended for a single day. But in that short time, he’d given her the warmth of a fatherly love she had missed for so long. She gazed up at the sky, believing that wherever Mr. Hamilton was now, he was happy, reunited with his daughter at last.
Despite her grief, Rachel chose to return to work. She realized it was better to stay occupied than to let her sorrow consume her. But no matter how busy she kept, she would occasionally stop in her tracks and remember Mr. Hamilton.
In time, a vicious rumor about Rachel spread throughout the hospital, that she and Mr. Hamilton had had an affair, and she’d used her body to make him treat her kindly. At first, Rachel was upset, but Emily reminded her that they both knew the truth, and that was all that mattered. A few days later, Rachel was in the stockroom organizing medication when Emily came rushing in.
«‘Rachel, I found out who’s been spreading that rumor about you,’ Emily whispered. Rachel didn’t speak at first. «‘Who?’ she asked, a trace of worry in her voice.
«‘I heard it myself in the nurses’ station. Tiffany, she admitted she made everything up just to ruin you. I even recorded what she said, so I have proof,’ Emily said angrily.
Rachel was speechless. She knew Tiffany hated her, but she never thought she’d resort to such a baseless story. At that moment, Tiffany walked in unexpectedly.