When Dad answered the phone, I was surprised.
"I didn't expect to get you. I figured I'd get Mom. So, you been doin' okay?"
"Yeah, mostly. Glad to be—"
"Thank you, Little Bit, I'm just fine." Dad laughed; a dry, raspy chuckle. It told me everything I needed to know—that there were still things worth laughing about, but that even with the constant morphine IV, belly laughs still weren't pain-free.