by Amelia Wilde
“As my therapist?”
“I want you to put yourself in her shoes and think what you’d like for your last days. What are the options you’re given?”
Her options are to continue treatments while feeling sick or enjoy the rest of her days traveling with her sister and doing what she likes best. I slam my palm on my forehead. Of course, she’ll be wasting away in Seattle. “Fuck. I’m an idiot.”
“Papa Chris!” A nasally little voice comes out from the other side of the line.
“My time is up. Listen to your mother, and enjoy the time you spend with her.”
The verdict is final. I can’t stop what’s coming anymore. I can’t fight it the same way I can’t fight the tide or the rain. Change is happening whether I like it or not. The question is what’s going to happen after she leaves me? Smashing my half-consumed cigarette against the wall, I climb up the stairs knocking on Aspen’s door.
She opens the door and her arms for me. I walk into them, holding her tight as if she’s my lifeline. Her scent diminishes my anxiety. There’s a saying that I always repeat during my missions, “find strength within yourself. Fight with all your heart, and never give up.” Letting Mom go feels like giving up. My heart has no fight left in it; Aspen’s the one holding me together. I never thought that someone else could be the source of my strength.
Releasing my hold, I take a look at her. Those whiskey eyes I dream about every night stare back. Her heart shaped lips clamp together. I study her. Her wavy, dark brown hair is tied into a loose ponytail. Her delicate features look classy, elegant. But above everything, it’s her eyes and the reflection of her soul that has me coming back to her. The tidal wave of feelings slams into my heart. There are too many for someone who has never dealt with them before. Among every emotion flowing through my system, the ones I feel for Aspen strengthen every day.
“I’m here for you, Hawk,” she whispers, pushing herself onto her tiptoes and giving me a peck on the lips.
This difficult journey doesn’t have a smooth road. Walking it with Aspen makes it less rocky and more bearable.
14
Aspen
Sophia isn’t only a neighbor to Brynn and me; she’s like the cool aunt everyone likes to hang out with at family reunions. There’s sadness in my heart is for her, for Anderson, but also for my dad. Her decision brings back so many memories. The pain of losing my father, the ordeal I went through, and the estrangement between my mother and me. It’s been almost three years since we lost Dad. The staggering loneliness I experienced reminds me of my mom, who I only speak to twice a year. She left me to carry the loss of my father. Lonely, I sat on a plastic chair next to Dad, and only the hospice personnel to be around us.
This isn’t how I expected this to be, not that I had any idea on how I would spend the last days with my father. Hell on earth is a white walled room with only a crucifix hanging above the headboard. My hero—the man who read to me at nights and hugged me when the monsters under my bed threatened me in my sleep—lays on a hospital bed under a thin white cover connected to multiple machines, his skin glued to his bones. The desolation consumes me. I’m a doctor. I help people, and one of the most important people in my life is dying right in front of me. I have never felt so worthless and wretched.
Rubbing my temples as I close my eyes, missing work and the numbness of the fast-paced life I live. Since Michael’s departure, I’ve thrown myself into my studies and work. Never letting myself feel, disregarding the void in my heart. These days, the vacuum is increasing, and it’s swallowing me into a deeper, darker hole. When Dad dies, I’ll go back to my life and the way I like to live it. The bustling emergency room had been a dream come true. It’s busy with so much to do and not a moment to think about my personal life.
“Miss Zimmerman.” A male voice snaps me out of my trance. Oh, the asshole who loves to call me Miss instead of Doctor. “How’s your father doing?”
“He’s stable.” I hand him over the chart I created. Checking Dad’s vitals every five freaking minutes keeps my mind busy, but not busy enough.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll do my own exam.”
Asshole.
I pay attention to what he does, remaining quiet. Once he’s done, I ask the right questions and suggest a few things, like dispensing morphine and bringing warm blankets more often.
“We’ll take that into consideration. One of us should be back later today,” the doctor says as he’s out the door.
Upset with his response, or lack thereof, I grab my bag and head to the cafeteria. I wish Mom would come to stay for a few hours so I could bathe and have a decent meal. Since it’s not possible, I grab a granola bar, an apple, and two bottles of Mountain Dew. On my way up, I decide to turn on my phone. Maybe call Austin, and convince him to come over to help me. As the apple on the screen appears and I tap my passcode, the notifications start.
“Dear, you haven’t return any of our calls. Brooklyn left today for Boston. I’m hoping she’ll call us when you need us. We all love you.” Victoria, the head nurse from the ER sounds like her usual bossy self, but I know it’s her way of showing love.
The next one is from Brynn. “According to this map, Hugo and I should be arriving in three days. I’d say longer if you add rest stops. Hugo likes to stretch his legs often. I know you said I can stay with your mother, but do you think we should book a hotel suite? Scarlett will fly over the weekend.”
Mom isn’t a fan of Scarlett—and vice versa. Mom also threatened to clean the house and get rid of everything she didn’t feel necessary. Things like the furniture in the guest bedroom, my brother's room, and clothing we will never use. I begged her not to touch my room insisting that I wanted to go through my things one last time, in case I forgot something important.
Not that I had. When I was scrambling to find a residency program that would take me, Tacoma Medical Center wasn’t ideal. But Brynn had my back, and came too. It was on the opposite side of the country, hours away from even Scarlett. I made sure to take everything I wanted with me and leave behind tokens that might or might not interest me in the future.
“Is everything okay, sweetie?” she answers immediately.
“Yes, Mom. I’m just wondering if Brooklyn and Hugo can stay with you for the next few days.”
“You know we can’t have dogs in this house, Aspen.” Yes, Dad is allergic, but he isn’t there anymore. Cleansing breath, and continue your conversation, Aspen. “I sold most of the furniture. There’s nowhere to put them.”
“Where am I going to sleep?” Not that I have time to drive home and take a nap. Her silence continues. “Did you dispose of all my things?”
“I had the movers pack your personal belongings inside some boxes. You and your brother can take them and sort them out later.”
“Is everything okay, Mom?” I ask worried about her odd behavior. “Do you need me there?”
“Of course not, Aspen. Your place is beside your father. He needs someone who knows how to care for him, and make his last days comfortable. Is he awake?”
“He wakes up only for a few minutes.” If she were here, she’d know. What is wrong with her? If my husband of thirty-six years were dying, I’d want to spend every second with him. Wouldn’t I?
“Did he say something? Did he ask for me?”
Should I tell her about the brief exchange we had?
He’d asked, “Where is she? Find her, and ask her to come and see me. I want to hear her voice one last time.”
“I can call Mom if you want to see her,” I assured him giving a light squeeze to his frail hand.
He shook his head. “Not your mother. Her.”
“Who are you talking about?”
“Helena,” he mumbled, right after his eyes closed and he was back to sleep.
I haven’t found out who this Helena is and why is he looking for her.
“Sorry Mom, he mumbled some words. Would you like me to pick you up later?”
“No, I don’t want
to deal with the petty faces and fake condolences. They make me uncomfortable. It’s hard enough to deal with the grief.”
“You are not alone, Mom. Everyone is here to support you.”
“No. I don’t know who ‘everyone’ is, but I need family,” she claims. “Once this is over, I’m moving close to Austin.”
“Austin, Texas? Or ar you planning on moving close to my brother?” Is she serious? We have a better, closer relationship. “You can move to Tacoma with me, Mom.”
“It’s your brother’s obligation to care for me. He’s the man of the house.”
I love my mother, but her old-fashioned ways of thinking drive me insane. “Does he know about it?”
“What’s with the twenty questions, Aspen?”
“Not sure, Mom, I’ve been thinking. Why are you withdrawing? Why is it that we don’t have a better mother-daughter relationship?” I walk around the room, airing my doubts, resentments and…Why am I so upset at her? “We have a cordial relationship. That’s different from trusting. You barely confide in me with your problems. We pretend to have a loving relationship. But in truth, I have to guess what you feel because you keep everything inside.”
“That’s the way it should be. Maybe that’s why you’re not married, yet. Have you thought about it?” No, Mother. I haven’t married because my fiance died before my wedding. I swallow all the words, letting her continue with her hurtful rant. “You are thirty and single. You have to learn your place because the clock is ticking.”
My place? Should I google ‘Aspen’s place in the world’? Thirty and single is what? Oh boy, she has to learn that women don’t need to be married at a certain age to be successful. I don’t have to be attached to a man to be happy. Of course, I bite my tongue. Upsetting her more would get me nowhere.
“Mom, I love you, but I’m not going to continue this conversation. Not while you’re grieving the loss of your husband—who you should visit before he dies. I don’t judge you. If this is your way of dealing with the loss, I respect it.” It’s wrong in many ways. However, I won’t condemn it. “I’m trying to be strong for the two of us. If you believe that leaving Boston is the next step, I support you.”
“Aspen, there are things you’ll never understand or accept.” Her clipped, forceful tone makes me take a step back and look at the phone. What is with her? “Call if there’s any change.”
She hangs up. Immediately I text my brother.
Me: She’s moving in with you?
Austin: Who?
Me: Mom.
Austin: Fuck no!
Well, that answers my question. They haven’t discussed her plans. His caller ID flashes on my screen a few seconds later.
“Why would you say that?” he says instead of hello.
“I was on the phone with her, she’s cleaning the house. Moving to Seattle—”
“Now I understand why she said, ‘once you become the man of the house, you’ll have to make some decisions.’ I thought she meant selling the house.”
“You told her to sell the house?”
“I suggested it, never thought she’d do it,” he says between clenched teeth. “Fuck, I can’t have her with me. Can you take her?
“I offered. Mom said no, that she has to go with you.”
“Do you know that she plans to find me a bride? She suggested match dot com.” I laugh at the idea of my mother filling out my brother’s profile. Notes: He thinks he likes boys, but he can make a great husband to any girl I approve. “It’s not funny, squirt.”
I sober up. “Of course, it’s not.” My parents don’t accept that my brother is gay. They feel that if they don’t acknowledge it, it’s not true. Mom insists that it’s a phase. I worry about him. I’ve met many patients who tried to commit suicide because they don’t get support at home. Others don’t make it. Austin is a psychologist who works with an LGBTQIA teen advocacy center in Seattle. One of the reasons I pushed so hard to move to Washington State. After listening to many horror stories, he says that dealing with our parents is nothing in comparison. “I’m sorry, Aussie. Sorry that you have them as parents. They should be proud of who you are.”
“My sister gets me, and I’m thankful for you. Do you need me? Do you need anything?”
“I’d love it if you can stay with Dad while I take a nap.” He groans. “Since that’s not going to happen, why not help me find a place for Brooklyn and Hugo to stay?”
“If Hugo were a hot guy, I’d take him out of your hands. But since that’s not the case and you’re too far away, I have no idea what to do.”
“Understandable.” I sigh.
“I’ll call our mother,” he pauses, there’s a long silence. “She has to make other arrangements or stay in her house because I can only deal with her personality during the holidays.”
“Good luck with that, love you, Aussie.”
“Love you too, Squirt.”
Hanging up the phone, I turn around to find Dad observing me.
“Hey, Daddy.” I march toward him. “How are you feeling?”
“Were you on the phone with Austin?” His voice cracks but his words are clear.
“Yeah.”
“Is he coming to see me?”I lower my head closing my eyes briefly. “I don’t blame him. He’s a good kid, I was never a good father to him. When my time comes, you’ll—”
“Dad, save your strength.” I take his hand between mine.
“No, Aspy. You have to pay attention to me, sweetie. I don’t have much time left, we both know it. The lawyer has a will; you’re the executor. Your mom should be covered for life—even if she doesn’t accept what I leave her.” He speaks with such clarity. I am hopeful, yet my gut clenches. This could be the last time we have a nice long conversation. “The house is for her. All the other properties are for you and your brother, except for the apartment in New York and the house in Maine.”
“Dad, save your energy.”
“The apartment is for you. Now, dear. The most important task I’ll assign you is to open the safe, the one under my desk. There, you’ll find a big envelope addressed to you. Read it when you’re ready.”
His eyes begin to close. “Ready for what?” I touch his forehead, then feel the side of his neck to count his pulsations. “You should rest, Daddy.”
“Promise you’ll follow my wishes, Aspy,” he persists as if his life depends on my promise.
“I promise to look for the envelope.”
“I thought I had all the time, and look at me. I’m scrapping minutes here and there so I can be with my favorite girl.”
Kissing him hand I dare to ask, “Dad, earlier you were asking for her. Who were you talking about?”
“I loved your mom, Aspy. We had a complicated relationship. Neither one of us trusts the other entirely to give ourselves to the relationship—the way a marriage should be.” He closes his lips looking for something. I take the cup of water from the table next to him and help him drink some. “Thank you.”
He closes his eyes, his hand searching for something. It doesn’t stop until it finds mine. “Yes, I love Addison so much. And I hurt her even more. Please, tell Addison I loved her and that it wasn’t my intention to cause her so much pain. If I could, I would go back and do everything differently. I’d let go of Helena and give everything to Addy.”
“Who is Helena?”
“My first love. The one who got away—no I left her first.” He squeezes my hand weakly. “Addy wasn’t the love of my life, but she was my partner. Your mother was so different back when I first met her. Her free spirited personality died as we continue with the on and off relationship. My doubts, her… she never believed that I could love her. You can fall in love with two different people. I hope with time, you’ll understand it. You should try to open your heart too. Michael was a good man, but I know there’s someone else out there waiting for you.”
“Dad, please.” I hate when he talks about Mike and my life. He can’t possibly understand my feelings.
&
nbsp; “Please, Aspy. Enough is enough. Grief is withering your soul.” He closes his eyes. “Tell Austin I loved him. In my heart, he’s my boy. My son.”
“What does that mean?” I urge him to speak, this is a breakthrough.
He flinches, grunting in pain. “My time is coming, Aspy.”
“No. Wait!” The desperation in my voice echoes in my ears.
“Find what makes you happy, allow yourself to live again.” His breathing grows shallow. “You’ve done a remarkable job since he died, one more push, sweetie.”
He flinches, and I wish I could do something to free him from the pain. “As your daughter, I don’t want to lose you, but I can see why you have to go. You’re in so much pain, Daddy.”
“You being here makes everything easier, better. I love you the most, sweetie. Maybe I wasn’t the best father, but I loved you and tried my best to protect you from everything. Sorry if I failed you while doing so.”
“You never failed me.” I kiss him on the cheek. “I love you, Daddy. Being a parent looks like a hard job, and I’ve seen that babies don’t come with instructions under their arms.”
I make a weak joke; he chuckles. “Twenty-three children, Dad. One set of twins. Not sure if the parents knew what to do, but I bet they realized that parenthood isn’t an easy job.”
“You’ll be a good mother.”
“Or not. I don’t think I can take care of one of those. My dog is self-sufficient, that’s the only reason he’s alive.” Diverting the conversation to something different is my goal. My parents believe that women should marry during or after college, and they should start having children right away. At twenty-nine, I’m about to become a spinster. “What happened to Helena, Dad?”
“She was my high school sweetheart. I chose Columbia over DU. She didn’t want to move to New York with me. It wasn’t her destiny.” His eyes remain closed as he slowly continues the story of this woman he loved. “She met another guy. The love of her life, she said. When I came back, she was gone. She married to a SEAL who died only a few years later. It was hard for her and her children. I didn’t want that for you, Aspy. I wanted you to find a nice man who had a steady job and who would give you everything.”