“What else can I say?” Each moment brought a breath, and then another, not slow and steady like Doc would have wanted, but choppy, as if I’d run a long way through water or sand. One, two, three. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I had to be dreaming, didn’t I? But this...this dream was indescribable, eccentric, maddening, all at the same time.
“Have you thought that the love has changed? It’s still there, but different. Might you be better off separate?”
A light flicked on, and the man again sat on the mat at my feet.
“The love? What love? Are you talking about my relationship with Sadie?”
A burst of color pulsed beside him and broke into a thousand shards of light, all of them settling into the man’s hands. He blew against the pieces, and they vanished. “I am.”
“How do you know about my relationship?”
“Because I’m in tune with the Earth, and you’re a part of that Earth...and so I’m in tune with you.” He gestured for me to lean down as he stood, holding his palms up, cupped like a bowl.
Between his fingers, what looked like a single atom hovered. The cloud of electrons parted, and the nucleus cleared. The subatomic particles thumped and swirled, grew bigger and bigger, and then began to change. Shimmers of images scrolled before my eyes: memories I’d made with Sadie and the kids.
“What? How?”
“Life changes, Theo. But how do we react to those changes? Only worry about what you can control...do not spend energy on everything you can’t. Are you looking?” He raised his arms upward, toward the ceiling. “Are you really seeing?” Now, he brought his arms down before placing them crossed over his heart. “What’s inside you?”
“My body? Organs are.”
“And inside those?”
“Blood, cells, nutrients...” The particulars were easy to list, but what did he want?
“Yes, but more specifically...it’s your life force.” A starburst of yellow light popped behind his head as he spoke the words, and a distant hum began to grow louder.
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”
“Well then, when you figure it out, let me know. You have everything you need, Theo. You have everything you need, Theo. You have everything you need, Theo.” His voice reverberated around the room, but came back each time to my eardrums, piercing them.
“Stop!”
Click.
Andrew. Blood on his face, in his eyes, trickling down his neck in rivulets, leaking on to his shirt. A drop and then a bloom of scarlet against the white fabric.
“What are you doing here?” I reached my hand toward him. He needed my help, but what could I do?
“You’re looking for a connection, Theo.” Andrew’s voice, thin and shaky,
“He already said that.”
“Who?”
“The man. Yoga Man.”
Andrew turned his head. “I don’t see any man, Theo.”
“And stop saying my name! Why is everyone saying my name all the time? Who talks like that? I know who I am, and I know who you are and who Doc is. Stop it!” I closed my eyes and placed my hands over my ears, but his voice still rang loud and clear.
“I’m sorry if I was doing something wrong. I’m just trying to remind you of who you are.”
“Why?” Having my eyes shut meant I didn’t need to focus on the red blood, the truth of the situation. That I’d hit him and hurt him because I couldn’t handle myself. That’s who I was. What did I need reminding for?
“Because if you remember who you are, Theo, you might come back to us.”
The words targeted my gut, and I opened my eyes. Andrew no longer stood before me. Instead, Sadie. The kids. They looked lost, broken.
“Come back to us, Theo. We’ll figure everything else out.”
“Come back? Come back from where?” I shouted.
Click.
Chapter 33: Sadie
I made it to Charlie’s school with a couple minutes to spare, in a state that probably didn’t look good. My eyes had to be puffy and red, and my hair—I was sure it had seen better days. Charlie stood in front of his poster board presentation as I approached. Did he wonder about Theo? This program was something Theo shouldn’t be missing. In the distance, Charlie craned his neck, looking around at the large group of people hanging out at the gym. My stomach dropped.
Thanks to video calls, I’d witnessed one of Charlie’s conversations with his dad right after he’d moved to the Inn.
“I have a lot going on in my brain, Charlie,” Theo had said when Charlie asked him about why he moved out. “I guess I have so much going on in there,” and he pointed to his skull with his index finger, “I haven’t been paying much attention to what’s going on out here.”
Huh. At least he admitted it. But now, here I was, left to my devices, having to tell Charlie about the man he loved and called his dad. Along with a bellyache, my hands began to shake.
Once Charlie caught sight of me, he dashed a couple steps away from the booth, almost crashing into me.
“What’s wrong?” His voice, small and low, shook with his words.
“Dad’s in the hospital, and you need to visit him, now.” My clipped words always meant business. Charlie knew that.
“Okay. I can show you this later,” Charlie said. As he packed up his folder and binder clips, slipping his things into his backpack, the title of the poster grabbed my attention: My Dad, My Hero stood out at the top of the board. As I moved closer to the board, I thought back to our summer and our discussion of the project. Charlie hadn’t been forthcoming with details about what he’d planned to say. Come to think of it, I’d never even seen a rough draft, something unusual for Charlie. What had he written? I leaned in closer, trying to catch the details on the board—
“Mrs. Rollins-Lancaster, how nice to see you again!” The principal of the school interrupted me. “Charlie has been a pleasure all semester long. You have a real gem here.”
“Thank you for saying that. I’m sorry I have to pull him away from here, but we have a slight emergency.”
Who was I kidding? Charlie needed to see his Dad, in case—
“Well, I hope you were able to view his final presentation. He worked very hard on it, and we’re so pleased to hear that things are going so well for Mr. Lancaster.”
I felt the color drain from my face as I swiveled my head in Charlie’s direction and stared at him. So well? For Theo?
“What?” I leaned in toward the principal, but Charlie pulled on my sleeve.
“Well Charlie here said...” The principal stopped talking and looked back and forth between us. She flipped through the pages on her clipboard, looking for the list of presentations. “I thought...”
Charlie didn’t let me finish. “Mom, let’s go. We need to go.”
“Yes, we do.” Charlie could explain later. He would explain later. In the meantime, we needed to get to Theo.
. . . . .
After throwing Charlie’s bags in the trunk, I slammed the lid and walked over to the driver’s side door. Gripping the handle, I flung the door open, then pulled that same door shut with such force, the coins in the center console jumped. As Charlie buckled up in the back seat, I counted to ten, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth, just like Theo. The crisp air tickled my nose and worked to refresh my bad attitude. What a shit day. But Charlie had never responded to anger, so calming myself before speaking took priority. I twisted around to face him and tried my best to paste the most loving and peaceful smile on my face.
“All right, Charlie. Are you going to tell me what happened back there? What did t
he principal mean that things are going well for your dad? I’ve never been one to condone lying.”
A million ideas swam through my head about what Charlie might have said. He’d most likely written that Theo didn’t have PTSD, or he’d beaten it with no issue. He might have gone with a full-fledged lie of something outrageous, like he’d been promoted to—what? I didn’t even know. Instead of jumping to conclusions, I waited for Charlie to speak.
His voice, small and weak, cracked as he told me what he had done. That while his father had been his hero, back when he was younger and before Theo had developed his condition, he wasn’t any longer, and so he’d lied. The more I listened, the more despondent I became. Neither Theo nor I had any idea this subterfuge had been happening. What sort of parents were we?
“He didn’t ask for PTSD, honey,” I said.
“I know, Mom, I know.” A hiccup broke though Charlie’s words. “But a hero is someone you want to grow up to be like. I don’t want to be like Dad, ever.” He cast his gaze downward, and a few tears fell toward the floor of the car.
Poking around in my pocket, I searched for a semi-clean tissue to give him and thrust it into Charlie’s waiting hands. He nodded his thanks.
Charlie’s point of view made sense, and for a moment, I paused, taking in the entirety of my son, the one who looked much like Theo did as a child. Charlie would have to remember the good parts of his life with Theo because there might not be more happy memories to make. He had to fully comprehend his complex father before we visited the ghost of the man in the hospital.
“Charlie, just because Dad doesn’t look like a hero to you right now doesn’t mean he isn’t one in his own way. For these last few years, he’s gotten out of bed and tried to take on what the day brings him, whether he was strong enough to do it or not. He’s moved forward every day, hoping his therapy might help, even knowing it might not.” Balancing whether the next words that popped into my mind deserved to be shared, I hesitated. “He’s fought his demons with extreme honor and courage every day, Charlie. And for that, he is a hero.”
More tears slid down Charlie’s young face before he wiped them away with the back of his small hand. He blinked a couple times and sniffed, shaking his head up and down, as if he was contemplating what I said. Charlie had no words to give me in return and truthfully, I shouldn’t blame him. Everything I’d mentioned was a lot to take in for an eleven-year-old.
I twisted back around toward the steering wheel and placed my head on the cool center of it. Despite my better judgment and the fact that I always tried to stay calm in front of the children, I wept then, harder than I had in a long time and so much I had trouble catching any air. Amid my breakdown, Charlie climbed over the car seat and wound his arms around me. We sat for a long time, entwined in a hug.
. . . . .
Once we’d cleaned our faces and found our equilibrium again, Charlie and I visited the hospital, but I let him spend time alone with Theo. My son needed to resolve his feelings for his father, and I wasn’t sure having me in the room would have been helpful. Instead, I sat in the hallway outside Theo’s room, processing everything: the letter, the book, Theo’s initial detachment, his most recent actions, and how everything fit together. Dante’s levels of hell. What did he mean? And when did he write the letter? How long had he been thinking of doing what he did? Biting my lip to keep me in the moment, I thought about his words. He reveres you. The two of you could be happy together. Really happy.
An idea formed in the forefront of my mind. Did Theo take himself out of the mix prematurely, so to speak? Did he think he was doing me a favor? Acid rose in my throat, and I charged for the nearest restroom, barely pushing open the door before everything I’d eaten that day came rushing out.
As I splashed cool water against my heated cheeks and rinsed out my mouth, I knew it was time to go get Charlie. The words I had spoken to him in the car held the truth but were all lies at the same time. Charlie didn’t know anything about what Theo had done. Not being privy to the same information I was, about Theo’s probable act of cowardice, Charlie might be right: Maybe Theo wasn’t a hero. At least not of his own life.
December marched on, and Christmas came and went. Despite my full days, I had plenty of time to reflect on what had happened in the moments leading up to what Theo had done. I knew the why of it, thanks to his letter, but I still wasn’t sure if I’d missed something. Running through the details with a fine-tooth comb, I mulled over actions I thought I remembered and snippets of conversation that had occurred at Walloon Lake. My mind floated back to daily interactions: the smile on Theo’s face when he played with Lexie, the serene lines and mellow angle of his jaw as he sat with Charlie and Delia. Even though he had seemed somewhat detached when he’d been at the cottage, I’d checked in with Theo. “Good day or bad?” I’d asked. And on most of those days, he’d lift his thumb and nod his head.
But in his letter, he revealed he’d known about Andrew and me and the almost kiss, an event that came before my huge revelation to him. That explained his initial apathy when I told him. He must have been furious, but instead of lashing out at me, he’d turned inward and let the wound fester. Almost fatally. But what had finally set him off?
The days inched by. Theo had moments where his vital signs seemed stronger, and at one point, after the first of the year, we even took him off the ventilator. He survived, shaky and tenuous, but still on this side of alive. At other times, as people filtered in and out of his room, it seemed as if only a gossamer thread tethered him to this world. Coworkers and neighbors streamed in and sniffled their greetings, many of them saying silent goodbyes with a single nod of their heads. They didn’t know about Theo’s last act—or if they did, they didn’t let on—and I didn’t correct them otherwise. No one needed to find out the courageous serviceman had, in the end, not been so courageous after all. The only people outside of Kate, Jackie, Andrew, and Mom I informed were Rick and Laura Sullivan. If anyone would understand, it would be those two. But I’d taken the easy way out and written them a letter, and I still hadn’t heard back from them.
We hadn’t drawn up a living will, so I wasn’t quite sure what to do about Theo’s condition, should I need to decide. If the time came to make a choice, I hoped my family and friends would help me consider the options and make the right one.
I thought about taking a leave of absence from my job but instead requested to work remotely. Some of my workload would fall to Jackie, who had found her groove both at work and at home. She juggled being a parent and an employee with grace and poise and told me to take as much time as I needed, as much as the company would give me.
“Thank you, Jackie,” I said, my voice muffled against her hair as I hugged her. “I have to do this. There is no way to stay at the hospital much of the day, be there for the kids, and get to work. I’m not doing a very good job of being a mother, but at least they have one parent mostly present this way.”
“Don’t worry,” Jackie said. “The boss won’t give that office to anyone else.”
And I was grateful. For the boss, the employees, the clients, and the pace my job lent to my life, the rush of getting through a book or a project and moving onto the next one. I’d miss every aspect of the office, partly because being at the hospital was difficult and being at home was even harder. I’d look at the kids and try to approach the subject of their dad. Most of the time, I failed.
Lexie and Delia had it the hardest, in a way. Both were young, and neither understood why Theo wasn’t home or how he was clinging to life in a stiff hospital bed. They’d never dealt with death before, and watching my girls hurt made me realize I hadn’t prepared them fully for when Theo and I would part ways. Lexie had come on the scene after Theo’s symptoms had escalated. She never knew the strong and healthy Theo, but it was clear that while his lack o
f health was the norm for her, she’d never contemplated he wouldn’t someday be there. How could she have done so? Now, our decision to live together without living together seemed so wrong.
Charlie knew a bit more, but by the looks of it, he was living in a state of denial. The pile of books on his nightstand now included books on veterans, PTSD, and coming back from heaven. Tears welled in my eyes as I stumbled to find words to speak to Charlie, but even when I tried, he shut me down.
“I love you, but I need to read,” he’d say. And I let him.
On the nights I made it home from the hospital before the kids went to bed, I’d climb onto each of their mattresses, and we’d send an extra positive vibe out into the universe for Theo. Would the universe be there for a man who tried to end his life? Did Charlie have a good book about that topic?
After the kids were tucked in and the house was quiet, I’d leave Brooke in charge and return to the hospital for an hour or two. Staying in our house ripped at my insides; Theo might never come back to that place. At least at the hospital, despite the beeping of the machine and the antiseptic smell, a small ray of hope existed.
Chapter 34: Sadie
One morning, after getting Delia and Charlie onto the school bus, waving with a smile I pulled out of nowhere, and finding my large travel mug so perfect for coffee, I kissed Lexie goodbye, thanked Brooke, and headed back to my perch next to Theo’s bed. My head throbbed from lack of sleep: the prior night I had rolled myself into a fetal position and cried for so many reasons, only one of which was for Theo. For once, the last person on my mind was Andrew, so color me surprised to hear he’d been by to visit Theo. Not seeing Andrew near the rooms or the nurse’s station, I took my seat and pulled out a tattered copy of a People Magazine Kate had given me. Too much idled in my mind to do anything but read trivial news.
Andrew and I hadn’t spent as much time together as I would have liked, but we’d somehow come to an unspoken agreement: get through this time right now, and we’ll address us later. Of course, we’d exchanged texts, but anything more took too much of my energy, and he understood. Did he still feel the same way I did about us? Despite the too-tight feeling that comes with being stretched so thin, my heart still raced when Andrew came to mind. Could he say the same?
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