We walked through the grassy field that surrounded the place.
“I was surprised when you told me you were back here for such a short time,” she said.
“Yeah. Well, I needed a break from Wisconsin.”
She cocked her head. “Too much…dairy?”
“Nah. The cheese is the best part.” I laughed. “Not enough of everything else, like my fam.”
“When do you go back?”
“Tomorrow.” I sighed. “I wish I could stay in California a few more days, though.”
“You miss home that much? That’s why you’re here? It’s an awfully long way to come for just a few days.”
“Well, I needed to do some soul searching. And I wanted to talk to Dad, in particular—and see you, of course.”
Catherine was the only one I’d spoken to at length about my bouts of depression over the years. But even so, I’d never expressed my deepest underlying concern to her: that I feared turning into our mother. Catherine didn’t realize the extent to which it plagued me.
A look of concern crossed her face as she gestured toward a bench near a monument of Holy Mary. “Let’s sit.”
I looked up at two birds congregating on the Blessed Mother’s head and finally said, “I’m going to talk to Dr. Spellman. I keep waiting for things to get worse.”
She tilted her head. “Worse how?”
I looked my sister in the eyes. “You know...”
Catherine adjusted the gold cross around her neck. “No, I don’t. What are you saying?”
I hesitated. “I feel like it’s only a matter of time before I’m cleaning the bathroom floor with a toothbrush at two in the morning, Cat. What if I wind up with bipolar disorder like Mom?” I swallowed.
She frowned. “Just because you struggle with depression, that doesn’t mean you have exactly what Mom has.”
“Last month they had to adjust my meds again. I missed a few days of work and was feeling really down.”
“Okay…well, that still sounds like depression. You know medications need to be adjusted from time to time. That’s true for almost any condition.”
“Or my illness could be progressing. I talked to Dad, and Mom didn’t change overnight.”
She let out a long breath. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that just because you needed a medication adjustment. But let’s walk down that path for a moment. What happens if things turn out to be the worst-case scenario and you’re diagnosed as bipolar someday? What are you really worried about here?”
“I don’t want to be sick, Cat.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Having depression or bipolar disorder doesn’t make you sick. It just means you have something you need to learn to live with.” She paused. “But what’s wrong with the idea of being sick anyway? We all become sick, whether mentally or physically, at some point. No one escapes this life unscathed.”
“Yeah,” I muttered as I looked up at the birds again, listening to them chirp.
My sister placed her hand on my arm. “No one would ever know you sometimes suffer on the inside. Most people probably think you’re a carefree, happy-go-lucky guy. You can hide a lot behind a smile.”
“Yeah, I try.”
“You shouldn’t have to work so hard to please others or give them an impression of you that’s not real. But you’re not alone in that. Many people hide their depression behind larger-than-life personalities. You never know what someone is going through on the inside.”
That reminded me of Molly. She knew a lot about me. But she knew nothing about my struggles with depression. And that was my fault. While she was always open about her anxieties, seeing a therapist and such, I’d never even hinted at my own struggles. Not only had I been dishonest with her in that sense, but I now realized how much my having to hide that part of me ultimately impacted my relationship with her.
“I had a realization at this lesbian bar back in Wisconsin…”
Catherine’s eyes widened. “I’m not going to ask what you were doing at a lesbian bar.” She laughed. “But tell me more.”
“My worry about ending up like Mom is the driving force behind a lot of my actions, particularly the way I handled the Molly situation. I think it’s why I let her slip away so easily, why I didn’t admit my feelings or fight harder for her. I sabotaged myself, so I wouldn’t have to deal with telling her about my worst fears.”
“You worry about turning into Mom, but you do realize the likelihood of that is slim, right? Just because you’re her son doesn’t mean your experience will be the same. Everyone is different.”
“I get that. But seeing how much Dad had to struggle with it when we were growing up has made me fearful of being a burden to someone. Shit, even if I was half as bad, that would still be pretty terrible. I’m young. Anything can happen.”
“Dad loves Mom. He doesn’t look at her as a burden.”
“Yeah, you know, I didn’t have a true understanding of that until I talked to him yesterday. But he didn’t know Mom was sick when he chose to be with her forever. By the time things got bad, he’d already committed.”
“What’s your point? That you should stop yourself from ever falling in love and warn people away from you, on the off-chance you end up like Mom?”
“Well…yeah. I guess that’s what I’m saying.”
“Don’t be foolish, Declan. I think you need to be treated for health anxiety, too. You can’t throw your entire life away out of fear. I guarantee you the fear of ending up like Mom is far worse than the reality of being Mom or living in Dad’s shoes. Yeah, she’s had some rough episodes. And it was hard for all of us growing up—embarrassing and humiliating when it happened in front of our friends. But she was untreated for a very long time. You have a good handle on things. And despite all of the bad moments with Mom, there have been a lot of wonderful moments too. Life has ups and downs. And if you love someone, you deal with it all.”
I kicked some grass. “I get what you’re trying to convey. But I’d still feel guilty allowing someone in my life when I struggle to feel normal sometimes. I don’t want to put that on someone else or make them feel inadequate when I inevitably fall into a depression they can’t get me out of. I don’t want that person feeling like they’re not enough to make me happy, because the truth is, when I get that way, nothing makes me happy, not even the people I care about.”
Her brow lifted. “But it always passes, doesn’t it?”
“It does.” I nodded and exhaled. “Yeah. It always has so far.”
“Well, there you go. It’s fleeting, not a permanent part of you.”
“I guess so.” Something about that statement comforted me, allowed me to momentarily see my depression as something outside of myself—something that latches onto me but isn’t constantly attached. Not a part of me.
My sister tilted her head. “You said a moment ago that you struggle to feel normal. What is normal anyway? Is normal some societal expectation that we all have to be perfect? Happy? Successful? I personally think it’s more normal to have flaws.” She stared off for a moment. “I grew up being told that women were supposed to get married and have children, right? It wasn’t popular to say you didn’t want that. And when I announced that I wanted to give up all of my material possessions and serve God, everyone—including you—thought I’d lost my mind, or that it was a phase. Not everyone has the same view of what’s normal. Freedom for me was giving up material possessions to live my life for a greater purpose. It’s what makes me happy. And I had to put aside my guilt about hurting others to achieve what I wanted.”
“It took me a while to accept that you’re where you were meant to be,” I said.
“My point is, Declan, you shouldn’t let your guilt or fear about anything dictate your decisions. God is the only true judge. And He leads you to the people and places you were meant to encounter. People like Molly. But He also chooses which crosses you will bear and never gives you anything more than you can handle.” She looked into my eyes. “You ca
n handle this. You can handle anything as long as you put your faith in Him.”
I wished I had the kind of faith my sister had. But trusting that all was going to work out without any visible evidence was always a hard sell.
***
On Monday night, I headed straight to my new favorite bar after landing in Wisconsin. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do here.
Belinda was wiping the counter down when she spotted me approaching. “Boy, you must really like it here. I can’t seem to get rid of you.”
“Yeah, well, turns out, I like the music and the company.”
She winked. “And you don’t have to worry about getting hit on.”
“I guess that’s true, too.”
“What can I get ya tonight?” she asked, her red hair seeming even brighter than the last time.
“A time machine?” I chuckled.
“Uh-oh. That bad, huh?”
Earlier today, while waiting for my flight, I’d made the mistake of going to Molly’s Facebook page and had seen a new update: In a Relationship with Will Daniels. It was official. There were also some new photos they’d taken together during a jazz concert.
I’d avoided asking Molly about the status of things with Will during our phone conversations because I didn’t want to hear it. But now I knew they were exclusive—i.e., You missed the boat, Declan. That boat was so far offshore now, it wasn’t even funny.
I spent the next several minutes unloading to Belinda, as had become my habit, telling her about my trip and Molly’s new Facebook status.
She cringed. “Ouch. Okay. But there’s always hope, right? This doesn’t mean it’ll always be that way. Relationships are hard, man. This dude can easily screw up. You might still have a chance someday.”
I shook my head, staring into my glass. “I don’t know what I hope anymore, Belinda. Maybe she’s better off with him. But…”
“But you still want that time machine.” She smiled sympathetically. “Okay, let’s talk about this. What would you do differently if you could go back and change things?”
I laughed under my breath. “A fuck ton.”
“Like…”
“I had multiple opportunities to tell her how I feel, and I blew them all. I’d take one of those moments back. I think I’d take the risk despite all of the fucked up voices in my head telling me not to.”
“And there’s no way you can do that now? Tell her how you feel?”
“She’ll think I’m only doing it because she’s unavailable now. She’s already seen what happened when I started dating that other girl, Julia. That one was about the game—or maybe I started falling for Molly. My feelings for Molly are different, but I’m just not sure she’d see it that way. And that’s my fault. I waited too long.” I sighed. “Plus, she’s getting serious with this guy now. I don’t want to mess anything up for her, if she’s truly happy.” I downed the rest of my drink and slammed the glass on the bar. “It just sucks.”
Belinda poured me another drink and said, “Okay. Wanna know the best advice I have right now?”
I took a sip and let out a small belch. “Yup.”
“Never be too far away. If you care about her, just stay in her life. That way, if there’s ever an opportunity, you won’t miss it. You can’t spot the cracks in the foundation if you’re too far away from the house. Get what I’m saying? Don’t be afraid to ask how things are going with this guy, because the biggest clues will come straight from the horse’s mouth. Stay the course, my friend. If it’s meant to be, it will.”
Will. I chuckled at the irony of that last word. I nodded as Belinda moved down the bar to attend to a couple of ladies on my right.
As much as I hated being stuck in Wisconsin, there were some benefits. It allowed me a neutral place to work on my own shit, see a doctor, and deal with my hang-ups without any distractions. But Belinda was right. If I wanted a chance with Molly, I couldn’t distance myself because her being with another man upset me. That was a pussy thing to do. I needed all the information I could get.
It was a good thing the bar was only a short walk from my hotel because I’d definitely had too much to drink. That also meant I wasn’t of sound mind when I texted Molly on the way home.
Declan: I fucking miss you.
It was late. I had no idea if she was in the middle of one of her shifts. But she responded just a few minutes later.
Molly: My father was just admitted to the hospital and needs to be on life support.
CHAPTER 27
* * *
Molly
“I need some fresh air.”
Will nodded and stood. “Let’s get coffee and take a walk around the hospital.”
“Would you…mind staying here?”
“Oh. Yeah, sure. Of course. I’ll text you if anything changes, or if Sam comes in for rounds early.”
I smiled sadly. “Thanks, Will. I appreciate it.”
He kissed my forehead. “I’m sorry, Molly. I wish there was something I could do. It’s killing me to sit here and do nothing. I hate feeling so helpless.”
I knew Will meant every word. He was a very caring doctor, which is one of the things I admired most about him. So many physicians stopped seeing patients as people, focusing instead on the clinical symptoms of an illness. But not Will. He got to know his patients and their families and had so much empathy.
“Thank you for being here. I know you should be home sleeping because you have to work tonight.”
His forehead wrinkled. “No, I shouldn’t be home sleeping. I’m right where I’m supposed to be, Molly.”
I walked through the corridors of the hospital in a complete daze until I stepped outside into the cool, early-morning air. It hit me that I didn’t remember anything after walking out of the ICU double doors a few minutes ago. The trek along the fourth floor, down the elevator, and out through the lobby were lost inside my head. I took a deep breath and decided to follow the trail around the hospital that I sometimes walked on my breaks with other nurses.
Last night, Kayla had called at a little after eleven o’clock. She said she was riding in the back of an ambulance on her way to the hospital. She and my dad had dozed off on the couch while watching a movie, and when she went to wake him to go upstairs to bed, he was unresponsive. The paramedics performed CPR when they arrived and were able to get a weak pulse, but things weren’t much better now, almost six hours later.
Kayla had run home a half hour ago to check in on my half-sister and give her an update before bringing her back to… I couldn’t even finish the sentence in my head. Bring her back to what? Say goodbye? That thought was still unfathomable.
When she called, I’d been at Will’s apartment freaking out about the possibility of finally having sex with the man I’d been dating for a few months. At the time, it had felt like the biggest decision I’d ever had to make. But now, just hours later, my father’s wife was looking to me for guidance on his health, and I could no longer imagine I’d thought my sex life was important enough to waste precious time fretting over.
My head was a jumbled mess as I rounded the rear corner of the hospital. When my phone buzzed in my hand, I held my breath. Seeing Declan’s name, I let out a sigh of relief, glad it wasn’t the hospital, or Will, calling with bad news. I swiped to read the message.
Declan: Just checking in on you.
I smiled halfheartedly. After the bombshell one-line message I’d sent to him on my way to the hospital earlier, I’d given him an update and promised I’d call if anything changed. But I really wanted to talk to him right now, so rather than text a response, I hit call.
He answered on the first ring.
“Hey—how are you?”
His voice wrapped around me like a warm blanket, and I felt my shoulders relax a little. “I’ve been better,” I said. “It’s good to hear your voice. I’m sorry for calling so early. I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Are you kidding? I was pacing, not sleeping. How’s your dad?”
>
“He’s…not good.” I felt my eyes well up with tears. “I don’t think he’s going to make it too much longer. He has a DNR—a signed do-not-resuscitate order—so he didn’t want to be put on life support. Without any help, his pulse is weak and his breathing is slow.”
“Jesus, Mollz. I’m so sorry. I knew he was sick; I just didn’t know this would happen so quickly, or I wouldn’t have left.” He paused. “I should’ve stayed. I should’ve fucking stayed.”
I smiled. Though I couldn’t see him, I knew Declan had just dragged a hand through his hair. “You had to work. No one knew how fast we were going to get here.”
“Is he…comfortable?”
“I think he is. He’s not awake to tell us, but his face is relaxed. He actually looks very much at peace right now.”
“Good. Good. Are you at the hospital still?”
“Yeah. I needed some fresh air, so I decided to take a walk—do a lap or two around the building.”
“Is Kayla with you?”
“No, not at the moment. She went home to talk to my half-sister.”
“Shit. I wish I could’ve jumped in the car when I got your text last night. But I’d been drinking and couldn’t. You shouldn’t be alone.”
“I’m not. Will is here with me.”
There was a long moment of silence before Declan spoke again.
“Right, of course. I’m glad you’re not alone.”
I needed a few minutes of escape. “Tell me about Wisconsin.”
“Are you changing the subject because you need a break?”
I smiled. He knew me so well. “Yeah, I am.”
“Okay, well…let me see, where should I start? Oh, I know—I met a woman.”
My heart sank. “You did?”
“Yep, her name is Belinda. She’s sixty-one and a lesbian.”
I chuckled, feeling instantly relieved. “Do you work with her at the dairy company?”
“Nope. She owns the bar down the street from my hotel. I really like it there. The people are great. I don’t know why I never went to a gay bar before.”
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