“You know what I think those spots on my liver are?”
“What a cute liver you have.”
“You’d better believe it.”
Master of optimistm. Always has been. Pop was the same way. I don’t know if it’s her way of smiling away the worry or making sure that we just smile.
She’s going to watch the rest of the NCIS Marathon before heading to bed and getting up at six to leave her appointment, where the ‘freckles’ will be officially diagnosed.
I talked to my dad later and he told me what they’re really doing.
And there’s some tears, and a sigh.
“She told me they were just freckles,” I assure him.
He laughs and gets off the phone before I can hear the tears in his voice.