[Conor Oberst] I want to feel the warmth inside your heart. [Chapter Six]

"Mom? What's wrong? Speak slower..." I said into my phone.
"Your dad...he's dying." She choked out in-between sobs.
My dad was fairly young, about late fifties, but he was sick. My mom was at a hospital that was about three hours away.
"I'll be there as soon as possible. Just hang in there, kay?"
"Alright."
"Bye mom, I love you. And tell dad I love him too."
"Alright, honey. I love you too."
I hung up my cell phone and broke down into tears. Which wasn't exactly a good thing, because I was at work. I sunk to the floor behind the front counter, and pulled my knees to my chest.
When I heard the bell on the door ring, I tried to reach some level of composure. But I failed miserably and just kept crying.
"Elise?" I heard Conor say in a worried voice. He came around the counter and saw me on the floor.
He immediately took me in his arms.
"What's wrong?" He whispered.
"My dad...i-is d-dying." I stuttered through my tears.
"It's going to be okay, love. Everything's going to be okay."
When my crying subsided, my shift was almost over. Only a few minutes were left.
"I need to get over there."
"Where is your dad?"
"In a hospital three hours away."
"I'll go with you."
I looked at him. "Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Alright, let's go." I said as Brian walked in.
"Hey, Bry?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you cover my shifts for the next few days? My dad is dying and I need to go help out with things."
"Sure, Elise. No Problem."
"Thanks so much."
And with that, Conor and I left for the hospital my dad was at.
I explained to him where it was at, and he drove.
The entire ride there I was talking about my dad, and how wonderful he was. All the things we used to do together when I was younger.
And Conor listened intently to everything I was saying.
When we arrived, Conor and I headed to the front desk to find out where my dad's room was and
such.
Conor held my hand the entire time.
We rode the elevator to the third floor, and tried to find my dad's room.
My mom saw us.
"Elise!" She ran up and hugged me, but I didn't let go of Conor's hand.
When she let go, she looked over at Conor. "And you're Conor, I'm assuming?"
"Yes." He replied holding out his hand for her to shake it.
"Well, my name's Laurie. And that's what I want you to call me, none of that 'Mrs' stuff."
"Alright, Laurie."
"So where's dad?"
"In here..." We followed her into a small room.
My dad was asleep, and he looked so fragile and brittle.
I began to cry again, and I buried my head in Conor's chest.