by Lund, S. E.
Elaine returned after about half an hour. Drake and I had gone to the cafeteria and came back with a cup of coffee and a Danish for Elaine, who was notorious for liking sweets for breakfast.
"Oh, thank you," she said and flopped down on the sofa, the coffee in one hand and Danish in the other. She leaned her head back and sighed heavily. "I'm exhausted." She took a bite of the Danish and chewed and neither of us said anything for a moment.
"Oh," she said and sat upright. "The nurse said they'll be moving your father to the neurology ward later today. He's getting a private room with one of those recliners, so I can sleep in the room with him. It'll be so much better than trying to sleep on the cushions from these couches."
I nodded and felt the couches, which were really two-seater chairs with removable foam cushions.
"We should go and stay at 8th Avenue," Drake said, running his hand down my hair. "It's pretty close and we can run back really quickly if needed."
I nodded, glad at the chance to sleep in the bed there. I had so many wonderful memories in that apartment. I hoped that when we came back, that's where Drake and I would live.
"I'll speak with the residents and see if the extra room is vacant tonight and you can sleep there if you want," Drake said to Elaine.
Elaine shook her head. "I'll be happy to sleep on the recliner in the room with Ethan. We haven't slept apart since we started to live together and I'm not going to start now."
"You haven't been apart a single night?" Drake said as he sipped his coffee. "That's amazing."
"We haven't. I've gone to every convention and meeting he's had and he's attended all my family reunions. We've been so lucky that my work has never gotten in the way."
We sat in silence for a few moments, and all I could think of was that I would have to send Drake back to Nairobi, and that we would be separated. There was no other option. I couldn't leave my father until he was back home, and Drake could only afford to stay away for a couple of days.
I took Drake's hand in mine. "Drake will have to go back to Nairobi soon, so unfortunately," I said and looked at him. "We'll have to be separated for a while."
"What do you mean?" he said and frowned. "I'll stay until you're ready to come back. Ethan should be out of danger in a couple of days."
I shook my head. "I won't be going back for a while," I said, my voice soft. I hadn't realized he expected me to go back with him so soon. "But you have to go back. You have students and patients waiting for you." I took his hand and squeezed, forcing a smile.
"I don’t want us to be apart," he said, his voice low.
"We won't be apart for very long."
"How long?" he said, frowning.
"Not long," I said, my voice light. "When Daddy's back at home and everything's set up for his rehabilitation."
"That could take weeks."
"Katie, you don't have to stay," Elaine said, her voice calm. "I can take care of your father. We'll hire private duty nurses, and will have the very best care. You should go back with Drake."
I shook my head. "No," I said. "I can't go back until I feel sure Daddy's OK. I'd fret and worry if I went back to Nairobi now. I'm alone all day when Drake's at work, and he works late every night. He's also busy on weekends grading and is on call once every three weeks so…" I shrugged. "I'm not going back until I feel completely satisfied that he's doing well. Drake will be fine. He's so busy, Elaine. Busier than he would be if he was here working. You don't know what it’s like."
Drake said nothing, his expression dark.
"Well," Elaine said and looked from my face to his. "You two will have to sort that out between you, but really, Kate. There's no need to stay."
"It will only be for a couple of weeks." I turned to Drake. "You understand."
"Kate, I don't want us to be separated," he said, his voice very soft. He glanced at Elaine and she stood up.
"I'll leave the two of you alone."
I watched her leave, and then turned back to Drake.
"I don't want you to stay here without me," he said, his voice wavering a bit. "I can take this week off if we're back by next Sunday night. Michael's taking my classes, and Barnes is doing my slate for the week. I want you in Nairobi with me. We should know by Saturday at the latest how your father's doing."
I smiled at him. He really couldn't understand how I felt. "What if he had a relapse? I can't be going back and forth."
"If you have to fly back, it's no big deal," he added. "We can afford it."
"It's not that," I said. "You have to go back. You're needed there. I'm extra. I'm not needed there. My father needs me."
"I need you."
I smiled and ran my fingers through his hair. "I'd be sick with worry if I went back too soon. I'd have nothing to do but sit around and think of all the bad things that could happen."
He said nothing, but his usually soft lips were pressed thin, his face blanched.
"Drake, you'll be really busy when you take on a full surgical load. Michael said he wants the two of you to go to the outlying provinces to do surgeries in the smaller centers during the breaks in the semester and you agreed. That would mean you'd be away for a week at a time and I'd be all alone…"
"I can't help that I'm so busy. The patients," he said, his voice low. "They've been waiting so long for this surgery. And I want you to come with me when we travel."
"I understand that," I said and took his hand. "But I can't leave here until I feel really certain that everything's OK. I read the articles on this kind of stroke. The risk of a re-bleed is still very high in the first few weeks after surgery. I'm not going to fly all the way to Nairobi and then worry every day and night that he's going to have another bleed and I'll have to fly back."
"That's too long. The semester will almost be over by then."
"Don't you understand? I'll feel useless there. All I have is my art and even that’s in question after the safari," I said, frustrated that he didn't get it.
He exhaled loudly. "What did that bastard Sefton say to you?" He leaned closer to me, his expression intense. "He must have said something to make you feel this way. It's like you're using your father's stroke as an excuse to stay here and not come back with me."
I closed my eyes. Maybe I was. All I knew was that I couldn't imagine leaving my father until I was certain he had recovered and was out of danger.
"Drake, my father and I only became close recently and then he almost died. I can't leave until I know he's no longer in danger."
"I can't stand the thought of going back without you."
I smiled softly. "I know. But you have to go back. And I have to stay. We'll only be apart for a few weeks."
"Elaine and Ethan were never separated."
"Yes, but her father didn't almost die while she was half way around the world!' I said, finally overcome by frustration that he couldn’t understand. "What if your father had survived the crash and you had to leave Manhattan and go to Africa to see him. Would you have left him there and returned after only a week?"
He shook his head slowly. "OK," he said, his voice low. "All right. I understand." He glanced away from my face, staring straight ahead, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "You're not ready to commit to me completely yet. You're still torn between your father and me. But there will come a time when you have to choose, Kate. Me or him."
"I'm not doing that!" I said, filled with exasperation. "I'm not choosing him over you. And don't you ask me to do that. I will be with you – in a few weeks." I sighed heavily. Why did he see it as all or nothing? "I'm afraid he'll die when I'm away and I won't get back in time to say goodbye." Tears sprung to my eyes at that. I sat in silence for a moment, breathing fast, my heart pounding.
"That won't happen."
"You can't promise it won't."
I looked at him, so confused and upset. Then he took my hand.
"You're not happy in Nairobi."
I sighed. It wasn't that I was unhappy – not really. It was that I couldn't i
magine going back and being alone all day and evening with my father's health still so unstable.
"You're away so much. I'm alone so much. I have no one to talk to. Besides my few canvases, you're everything. At least in Manhattan, I have family and friends," I said, trying to make him understand.
"Dawn is hardly a friend," he said quietly.
"Well, acquaintances," I admitted, since Dawn and I were on the outs. I stared at Drake, and he was visibly upset. "At least I'll have someone to speak to. I go days sometimes with no one but you to talk to. You talk to people all day. You’re probably never alone. Then you come home and I'm craving a conversation with you, but you're so late and you're so tired, we barely speak. Drake," I said, my voice lowering. I hesitated, because I knew I probably shouldn't say what I was going to say, but I said it anyway. "You probably see her more in a day than me."
He actually cringed at that, his expression changing to something like pain.
"Kate…"
"It's true," I said, defensive already. "Tell me it isn't true."
He merely shook his head and glanced away for a moment as if it was hard to look in my eyes.
I was so tired and had been through so much, I couldn’t think. "Your work is so important. You have to go back. I have to stay."
"You're important to me." He glanced up at me. "Do you understand that?"
"Yes," I said, looking away from his too-intense expression. "Of course, I'm important to you. I'm right there, just below your career, your patients and teaching."
"There's no below, Kate. You're on the same level."
I stared at him, hoping that was true.
"Do you believe me?" he said, taking my hand once more, rubbing my palm. "Do you believe that you're as important to me as my career and my patients and my teaching?"
"If you say so."
"That's not a resounding yes." Then he exhaled slowly. "This isn't getting us anywhere. If you don't feel that I value you that highly, I'm doing something wrong. Kate, you're everything to me. I couldn't imagine not being with you, not loving you, not having your love."
He said it with such emotion, that I felt incredibly guilty for doubting him.
"I agreed to go to Nairobi when I thought you no longer wanted to be with me," he said. "I made a commitment to Michael and he planned the year based on my coming, arranged the class schedule so that I'd teach the surgical courses, and contacted patients who needed my skills to come to the hospital. I want to spend more time with you, but I can't let Michael down."
"Of course you can't!" I said, my emotion finally spilling over. "I don't want you to. I don't expect you to leave Nairobi. My God, Drake. I know how important this is to you and to Michael, and to all your patients. But you have to understand that my father is sick and could die. I can't leave until I feel certain that he's going to be fine. I can't go back and sit all alone in Nairobi while you're away working, doing what you have to, doing what you love. I'd be so unhappy…"
"I understand." He stroked my hair, his gaze moving over my face. "You're upset now, because of what happened. You can't think rationally. Promise me this," he said and leaned closer to me, taking my hand, his face so serious. "Promise me that if your father is doing really well next Saturday, and if Aaron says you don't have to worry, that you'll return with me to Nairobi. If anything happens, you'll be on the next flight back, I promise."
I examined his face, his blue eyes so intense, his face pale. I tried to see my way to promising.
"I promise that if Aaron is happy with my father's progress, and if I feel that I can leave on Saturday, I will," I said finally.
"Thank you," he said, his voice filled with emotion.
"But," I said and pulled my hand back a bit. "If I don't feel that I can leave, you have to let me stay without any complaints."
I could see him grind his teeth for a moment. He nodded. "Agreed."
Elaine walked up at that point. "Either of you kids want to have coffee with Ethan? He wants some and needs help drinking it."
"I do." I smiled and stood up, glad to be able to leave the heaviness of the conversation with Drake to see my father. Before I could follow Elaine back to my father's room, Drake grabbed my hand and remained sitting. He stared up at me, my hand in his, his expression earnest.
"I'm sorry you're not happy in Nairobi. Don't give up on us, Kate."
I stopped and frowned. "Why would you think that I might give up on us? I'm staying because of my father, not because of you or how things are in Nairobi. If this never happened, I would never even think of coming back here until you were done with your term at the college."
He kissed my knuckles, and nodded, but I could tell by his expression that he didn't really believe me.
I knelt between his knees and slipped my arms around his waist. "Drake, it isn't that I'm not happy in Nairobi. It's just that I couldn’t imagine being there while my father's life is at risk. I'm happy there, but if I thought my father was dying…"
"I know," he said and smiled, but I could tell he was forcing it and that he didn't really believe me. "I'm being selfish. I want you there all the time. That's all."
Finally, he bent down and kissed me, his lips pressed against mine, lingering there as if he didn’t want me to leave. He pulled away and helped me up.
"You better go help your father with his caffeine fix."
I kissed him once more and then left him in the waiting room.
CHAPTER TWENTY
My father's condition improved a tiny bit every day and soon, he was sitting up and dangling his legs over the side of his bed. He wasn't ready to walk yet because the weakness remained in his body on the left side. He could do very little other than kick his legs and move his arms around to get some circulation to his limbs. He was still struggling to eat, his mouth not working properly, half of his face still drooping and his eye watering. He sat in bed with a tissue in hand, wiping at his mouth and eye.
When we met with Dr. Clark, I asked him how long the paralysis would last.
"Difficult to say. The swelling is decreasing a bit each day and as long as no further bleeding occurs, your father should regain almost full use of his arms and legs. The swelling will fully resolve within a month or so, and then we'll know how much use he'll regain."
"What are the chances of another bleed?"
He pursed his lips. "Each year, he has a five to twelve percent chance of another bleed compared to someone who has never had a stroke like this. We think we got all of the malformation, but there could be an area that is still susceptible to bleeding. Only time will tell if we were completely successful."
Drake wanted me to go to the apartment on 8th Avenue with him, but I decided to stay at the hospital and sleep in the extra resident's room. Drake didn’t like it, but he relented when he saw that this was not a point of negotiation. I didn't want to be woken up in the middle of the night by a phone call and have to drag myself to the hospital in the cold. I wanted to be right there, in case anything happened.
On Thursday, we spoke with Dr. Clark again.
"Kate's afraid that her father may have another bleed and so she's staying here at the hospital, but she's not sleeping well," Drake said, his arm around me. "Is there anything you can say to alleviate her fear?"
Dr. Clark frowned and shook his head. "I really don't expect anything more at this point," he said. "Your father's made steady progress and the likelihood of another bleed at this point is very slim. Not zero, but I don't expect it. You should feel comfortable going home tonight. His vitals are all fine and the swelling is going down a bit each day."
Dr. Clark turned and walked away, leaving Drake and me alone in the waiting room.
I turned to Drake and forced a smile, my arms crossed. "I'm fine here."
"You have to get used to being away from all this," Drake said, his expression stern. "Ramp down the anxiety a bit. Being here surrounded by nurses and medical personnel all day makes your father seem more frail than he really is. Aaron doesn'
t expect anything more to happen. Come with me to 8th Avenue. We can have a nice warm bath and I'll give you a massage. You'll sleep like a baby."
I turned away, feeling a bit resentful that Drake was trying to make me leave when I didn't want to but I'd been using the resident's shower and washroom for several days. I had to admit that it would be nice to have an actual bath.
I sighed and relented. "I'll come home with you tonight but if anything happens, I'm staying at the hospital."
"Good," he said.
And so, late that night, after my father had turned off his light and after Elaine and Drake and I had a late cup of tea while we discussed how the day went, Drake drove us back to the apartment on 8th Avenue. When we drove up, I felt a sense of excitement and nostalgia for the building. It was here that Drake and I really started as a couple. I remembered how excited I would be to meet Drake there and how he'd be waiting for me expectantly, a smile breaking out on his face when he saw me coming up the stairs. As we were parking in the lot down from the building, I took his hand and squeezed.
"So many good memories here."
He smiled and kissed my knuckles. "The best. I feel like when you walked up those stairs the first time, my life started again after being on hold for five years."
I said nothing, for my throat had choked up. He leaned over in the car and kissed me tenderly.
We walked down the street to the building, the night cold due to a freak storm, steam rising from the manhole covers, a thin dusting of snow having fallen earlier in the afternoon. Drake put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to keep me warm while he fumbled to find the right key to open the front door.
We went up the flights of stairs to the third floor apartment, butterflies in my stomach to be back at 8th Avenue after being away. Drake turned the key in the lock and then before I could step through the doorway, he stopped me and lifted me into his arms, carrying me across the threshold. I laced my arms around his shoulders and buried my face in the crook of his neck, smiling, remembering him carrying me that first time. He closed the door with his foot and then carried me all the way back to the bedroom before depositing me gently on the bed. The apartment was dim and so he went around and turned on a few lights while I removed my coat and boots, dropping them on the floor beside the bed.